


Love in all its simplicity!

by katasstropheee



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Airports, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bathing/Washing, Birthday Fluff, Bookstores, Campfires, Cooking, Date Night, Dinner, Domestic Fluff, Dresses, Epic Fail, F/M, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Grocery Shopping, Healing, Hot Weather, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Ice Skating, Karaoke, Late Night Conversations, Laundry, Mild Smut, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Outdoor Sex, Paris (City), Pool Sex, Reunions, Sharing a Bed, Singing, Sneaking Out, Snow Angels, Swimming, Teasing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tuxedos, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:15:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 22,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24087223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katasstropheee/pseuds/katasstropheee
Summary: "Love is something that emits light from small things and comes in ways that we can easily overlook in our daily lives."A collection of small one-shots involving hacy finding love in the simplest things.
Relationships: Harry Greenwood & Macy Vaughn, Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn
Comments: 100
Kudos: 127





	1. Grocery Shopping

**Author's Note:**

> All chapters will be heavily inspired by Love Is In The Small Things: a collection of illustrations by Korean artist Puuung. check out some of their works [here](https://www.boredpanda.com/love-is-illustrations-puuung/?utm_source=google&utm_medium=organic&utm_campaign=organic).

The list was as follows:

_Apples_

_Strawberries_

_Milk_

_Bread_

_Baking soda_

_Tea / English breakfast / green tea_

_~~Biscuits~~ COOKIES_

_Cookie dough ice cream_

_Mandrake root_

_Frankincense_

_Oleander_

Those last three items were written in a rough scrawl, in comparison to Macy’s smooth cursive. “Looks like Mel has added to the list again.”

He felt his companion’s presence come up behind him. She placed her chin on his shoulder as she read the list. “Hm. Well we can’t get any of those ingredients here.”

“I may know a guy.”

He turned as Macy crooked her head in curiosity. “You might _know_ a guy?”

“Yes” he chuckled, infatuated with her expression. “As insidious as that phrase sounds, I do have my sources for various supplies, _and_ underground information.”

She hummed again, tucking herself into the crook of Harry’s arm as he proceeded down the aisle. “You are still finding ways to surprise me Harry.”

“Given my past, that shouldn’t surprise you.”

“It does” she admitted with a casual shrug. She planted a quick kiss on his cheek before leaving his side and reaching for a box of baking soda. As she stretched, he caught a sliver of skin as her shirt and jacket rode up her back. As she returned to the trolley, she noticed his downcast stare. “Speaking of surprises…”

“Oh.” He shook his head as he came back to his senses. “My apologies. I was just-“

“Admiring the wide selection of cake mixtures?”

“Yeah, something like that.” His cheeks ran red in embarrassment, but Macy was feeling too merry to tease.

“Well, let’s have a look at this list and see what we’re missing. ‘Cause the sooner we get out of here… _you know_.” Her head gestured first towards the exit, then down to his hips. Her eyebrows rose suggestively.

His eyes were as wide as they could go, and his face now felt like it was on fire. All he could do was utter a quick “yes ma’am” before continuing on their pathway through the market. Macy clung to his side the entire way, and that did nothing to halt his increasing need to kiss the smug smile off her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> request a scenario or just come say hello @ [katasstrophee](http://katasstrophee.tumblr.com/).


	2. Fresh Falling Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based on [#49: Just Laying On Freshly Fallen Snow, Looking At Each Other](https://www.boredpanda.com/love-is-illustrations-puuung/?media_id=484090)

The bitter chill of winter’s bite was a reminder of how much Harry missed England. Sometimes.

He couldn’t fault Michigan – out of all the states he could’ve been placed in, it was a pretty one. “Renowned for its great lakes” is what google told him when he had researched it several months ago. He had yet to visit any of them, but nevertheless the fall trees with their vibrant leaves of oranges and gold were enough to leave him satisfied.

But fall was behind them now. Winter brought snow, ice, and America’s peculiar favouritism of pumpkin-spice flavouring.

“It’s not that bad, you know” Macy interjected, taking a sip of the smooth and sweet nectar.

“I digress” Harry said, throwing up his unoccupied hand. “It is a fad I will never truly understand.”

“I think it’s just supposed to keep you warm.”

“Well, a cup of cocoa will produce the same results.”

“touché, Harry.”

They were both adorned in their finest winter coats – Harry’s black fleece standing out against the white backdrop, and Macy’s lilac polyester. They were enjoying their own preference of beverage while making light conversation. They didn’t mind the bitterness.

After a moment of lull in their conversation, Macy stood. She carefully made her way down to the center of the garden and turned to face Harry. He watched the light snowfall catch in her chaotic curls.

Her hand stretched out, beckoning him to come over. He placed his mug down and stood, almost slipping as he stumbled down to meet her grasp. She laughed as he steadied himself. “It’s okay. We’re lying down anyway.”

“Beg your pardon?”

She was already declining into the soft bed of snow when she tugged heavily on his sleeve. “Get down here, whitelighter” she asserted playfully. He had no choice but to follow.

He immediately felt the wet slush seep into his trousers. _Is it really worth it?_ he thought against the growing distress.

“Absolutely.”

Oh. He looked over startled, realising his thought was projected out loud.

But Macy was smiling. He could feel her warmth swelling at his side. All discomfort was instantly forgotten, and it was replaced with the sweet scent of pumpkin-spice and a growing heat between them that could thaw the ice.

He had no clue how much time was passing. He knew they would need to get up eventually, sooner rather than later. But for now he was content. Seizing a small flu would be worth it, just to capture this moment in time.


	3. (Hammock) A Laugh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by [shannybelle23](http://shannybelle23.tumblr.com): “A cute scene where they’re reading together on the couch laying down or in the backyard in a hammock."

Setting up the hammock had proved much simpler than getting into it.

But that didn’t stop Harry from trying. It took him a few attempts to find the right angle and balance before he could successfully climb on, much to Macy’s amusement. She stood on the patio, leaning casually on a column and hiding her growing smile behind her hand. He was trying, and she didn’t want to embarrassment him from making a triumphant effort, even if it did make him look like one of those inflated dancing balloon men.

As he reclined, placing both hands behind his head in a relaxed gesture, Macy caught the widening of his eyes as the hammock rocked with his weight. Luckily it stayed secured to the two legs of the awning they had chosen for stability.

“Ta-dah!” he exclaimed, with less enthusiasm than he would’ve liked. He was still a little afraid of falling.

Macy approached quickly, hopping down the steps with ease. “My turn!”

Suddenly, his laid-back façade was replaced with pure panic. “Whoa! no, no. It might not hold.”

Her eyes widened in false offense. She patted her stomach as she replied; “Geez. Thanks Harry.”

“No, I-I, you know that’s not what I meant, right?” He was worried he’d made a big mistake. Up until Macy’s expression changed into a smirk.

The relief was brief. “Budge over, old man!”

Before he could move to give her the room required, her large frame was crushing his hips. He groaned, but kept silent as Macy quickly and confidently found the perfect position. She was tucked into his side, head leaning heavily on his shoulder. Her hand landed on his chest, where she immediately noticed Harry’s increased heart rate.

For a moment she felt guilty at leaving him unprepared for her descent. But only for a moment. “I’m sorry, Harry” she managed to say between fits of giggles.

When he was certain he wasn’t having an actual heart attack, Harry began to relax. He leaned his head back, taking in Macy’s warm body and her fingers, picking at the top button of his shirt. It swiftly came undone. “It-It’s fine” _he_ managed to say between rigid breaths.

They stayed there for a few minutes without any interruptions. It was nice. The breeze had cooled by a few degrees, which had made Macy snuggle tighter to his side. His arm was starting to go numb, but that didn’t holt the fingers that ran through her curls. Three more of Harry’s buttons had been unclasped by her steady hand. Gradually, the air was getting steamier. But there was no way any action would occur on a surface this unstable.

Or perhaps, Macy was more confident than Harry had previously inspected.

Suddenly there was a shift at his feet. He perked up, checking to see if the knot was still intact. It was. But he still felt the unease.

“Harry, relax” Macy drawled. She sounded like she was moments away from falling asleep. Even her fidgeting with Harry’s fabric had become laxed.

He took her words to heart and leant back, shutting his eyes against the blaring sunlight.

But not a moment later, his legs were falling. They both cried out, suddenly wide awake. He braced her shoulders and rolled her on top of him, taking the brunt of the fall. Thankfully they had thought it through before installation and had unanimously decided to put a bed of pillows beneath the hammock. _For safety purposes_ , Harry had confirmed to Macy’s nod of approval.

They had been right, of course. It took a second for Harry to slow his heart rate, which was having its second run of the day. Really, if he wasn’t a whitelighter with promised everlasting life, he would probably be dead at this point.

Once the blood stopped rushing past his ears, he checked Macy for consciousness. She was awake, and once again laughing hard enough to vibrate violently against Harry. In particular, the buzz over his crotch made him uncomfortable aroused.

She perked up, her curls flying in every direction. She leant her chin on his open chest as she stared in amusement at her man. “Maybe your comments about my weight were accurate.”

He knew she was joking, but a part of him would not take those comments to light. “Of course not. It must’ve been my ingenuity. Or _lack of_. Did I ever tell you about the time I almost burnt down a scout’s cabin when I was eight?”

She shook her head, biting her lip. Harry quickly forgot about the story when he caught the light dabs of Macy’s fingers, playing at the edge of his breast.

“Perhaps, _I_ can tell it another time.”

Macy’s nod was vigorous, and infectious as she leaned up and over, planting a smooth, open-mouth kiss on Harry’s gobsmacked lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While this wasn't exactly what was requested, I'm happy with what I came up with.
> 
> If you have a request for this series, hit me up on [tumblr](http://katasstrophee.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/katasstropheee).


	4. Laundry Day

Since she had skipped the past three weeks of scheduled chores, it was now Macy’s day to do laundry. It wasn’t like she had meant to skip her duties for that long. If anyone was to blame, it was the onslaught of scavenger demons that had been trying to gain hierarchy lately, now that the source of all power was removed from the equation.

Okay, she was partially to blame for that. She could admit that much.

Still, such trivial and mundane things like washing clothes felt out of place in the new normal. Nevertheless, demons were messy, and they often left discharge after their vanquishes. So I guess there was a perfectly good reason to keep the twice weekly laundry regime up.

Each room had their own dedicated hamper, so she spent a good ten minutes upping her step count on her smart watch, retrieving everyone’s dirty garments. Mel’s were neatly organised, separating colours from whites. Maggie wasn’t so considerate, having just chucked her clothes in all together. She hadn’t even bothered untucking the sleeves or pant-legs.

Macy sighed, making a mental note to give her sister another warning when she got home. After wasting another three minutes organising _that_ , she could finally move on.

She arrived to the last room in her pre-marked path. Harry’s. The door was shut, which was not unusual for the whitelighter. He shared the house with three other woman, so he took his privacy very seriously. She knocked three times, and waited three beats before gripping the door knob.

“Do not enter!”

Her grip stilled. Had he just blocked her access? It was _his_ room, so if he wished for seclusion, she would give it without thought.

But the way he had barked out his request put her nerves on edge. “Harry?”

“Just… _please_ keep the door closed.”

It seemed he knew how harsh his first sentence had come out. He seemed to regret it. Still, that didn’t explain why he didn’t want her entering at all. She tried again; “Harry, I’m collecting laundry. Can I just come in for a second?”

There was a moment of silence. She waited patiently for his given permission.

_Snap!_

She was so startled, she nearly tipped all the clothes she held out of the basket. Turning at the sudden sound, she found Harry’s hamper rocking to stillness against the opposing wall. His clothes were neatly arranged as well. It made her job much easier. And yet…

“Did you just orb your clothes out of your room?” she yelled through the thick timber.

“I- Just… can we talk about this later? I’m busy.” That last part was said with emphasis. He clearly wanted to be left alone. She huffed out a small ‘thank you’, thinking he didn’t even deserve that, and took the small pile of undergarments and jeans with her. He got most of his suit shirts and trousers dry-cleaned, so it wasn’t unusual for his pile to be bare. But right now, she could not say the same for his attitude.

As she sorted the clothes into categories and threw the first load into the machine, her thoughts got lost on the subject of Harry Greenwood. He had appeared fine just yesterday. He had spent the quiet morning preparing a breakfast fit for queens. He had even turned away her assistance for washing up after, saying she shouldn’t need to soil her hands in dirty water, not before she had to head into work. She appreciated his chivalry, as old-fashioned as it seemed.

She picked up a pair of his deep blue denims, smoothing out the legs. Her hands run over the rough surface, until she was stopped by something hard. _That shouldn’t be there_. She scoops her hand into the back pocket and pulls out some sort of silver device.

 _It’s Harry’s phone_ , she noted in confusion. Had he not noticed he had left it there? He still uses a flip phone, and it’s the bulkiest one he could’ve bought. How he could miss the _damn_ thing?

She put it aside for a moment, finishing the load. She dumped in a cup of detergent and clasped the lid shut. It was set to its pre-established timer, so that gave Macy fifteen minutes to get to the bottom of Harry’s sudden change in mood. She grabbed his phone and stormed out of the room, taking the stairs two at a time.

When she got to his door, she paused. Taking a few deep breaths to calm her growing irritation, she knocked three times. She winced at how sharp those taps came out.

“Harry?”

There was no answer, nor stir of another body in the room.

“You, uh… you left your phone in your pants. I just wanted to return it.”

Again, there was no direct acknowledgement. She put her ear to the cool timber, hoping to hear something that would indicate he was still inside. Upon closer inspection, she _could_ hear something. It was distant, and muffled, and accompanied by a few quick barges, and a few choice swear words. He sounded like he was struggling with something.

She wasn’t encroaching on his space. She was merely concerned for a friend who may need assistance. That was the excuse she would use to justify her next move. Before she could change her mind, she grabbed the handle and pressed down. The door opened without complication, swinging till it landed with a gentle thud against the wall. Her eyes would have searched the room for Harry, if she hadn’t already immediately found him.

Then just as suddenly, she was looking away. “Harry! What are you-“

“ _Dammit_ \- Oh, Morning Macy.”

To say she had caught him in a compromising position could be considered an understatement. This wasn’t the first time she had seen him in his underwear. She just hadn’t realised he favoured both boxers… and briefs.

He wore the latter right now. She was torn between taking another glance or facing the other way altogether. But as he struggled with something out of her foresight, she felt bad for putting her embarrassment over his own.

“Harry, do you need… help?”

“Ye-Yes, please. I seem to be a little _ugh_ … a little stuck.”

She moved a smidge to her left. Now she could see the real root of the problem. Ignoring the curve of his derriere as it hung high in the air, she observed his arm instead. He had been reaching for something beneath the small gap of his chest of drawers, but had failed to compare the size of the gap to the thickness of his arm. She watched the skin of his shoulder grow gradually to a deeper shade of red. It must be cutting off circulation. Whitelighters are more invincible than the average human, but even so, this could not be comfortable for him.

Without a second consideration, she brought her hands up. Using very minimal magic, she was able to lift the cabinet a metre or so off the ground. This gave Harry the accessibility to move his arm out of the way. She placed it back down gently.

Then almost immediately she was on her knees at his side. He was rubbing his arm, recirculating the muscles and blood flow. The only evidence of Harry’s debacle was a thick, red mark on his forearm. “It’ll fade quickly” he offered in assurance, noticing Macy’s worried expression.

She blinked, meeting his eyes. “Right. Of course.” She blushed under his deep stare, shaking herself out of its hold to ask; “Harry, why didn’t you call out for help before?”

“Because I wasn’t stuck before.” She gave a harder glare, asking wordlessly for a better explanation. “I-I have not been having a good morning. I dropped a few items and they rolled beneath my chest here. I was just trying to retrieve them. I apologise for taking my frustration out on you.”

He had moved his stare to the floor as he spoke. He looked remorseful. She couldn’t blame him for something so trivial. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “That’s okay, Harry. I’m sorry your morning hasn’t been great.”

He placed a hand over hers, patting it gently. “Well, the day can only improve from here, can’t it?”

“Ah, see. There’s the optimist I know and _love_.” Ignoring the final word in that statement (as hard as she tried to with Harry now wearing a slight gobsmacked expression) she stood up quickly, offering her hand to Harry. He took it, accepting the assistance. “Well, how about I start your day off right with a cup of your favourite tea?”

“Hm, sounds delightful. But I was just about to hop in the shower-“

“Okay” she exclaimed, keeping up her warm smile. “Well, your usually in the bathroom for… hm, about twenty to twenty two minutes, so I can have your tea ready for when you come downstairs.”

He crooked his head at that observation. “You know how long I shower for?”

“I know how long everyone showers for” she clarified. “I’m in charge of paying the water bill, so I take notes.”

“Ah. Wise” he gestured, pointing to his head. He brushed past her, bending over to pick up a few stray items and garments off the floor. She turned in modesty, keeping up pretence. But as considerate as she attempted to be, she couldn’t stop her eyes from wondering. As he leant over, the right side of his briefs rode up. Standing at full height, a patch of the cotton material was caught between his cheeks. She stared openly, embarrassingly, at the full display of his posterior.

She caught his turn a little too late, looking up and meeting his eyes. She hoped he hadn’t caught her observations.

“… Uh, Macy were you just-“

“I should check the laundry!” she blurted out. Her sharp announcement startled them both, Harry more so. But he hadn’t been the one caught out. Macy’s cheeks blossomed in heat as she fought through tears to leave the room. “Yeah, I think the first cycle is done. I’ll just… I’ll see you in twenty. Have a nice shower!” At that, she was halfway across the room and out of there before Harry could utter a reply.

She slammed the door and leant heavily against it, burying her face in her hands and letting out a garbled mess of shouts and sobs. She couldn’t believe herself. How could she be so rude… or reckless.

Then again, she couldn’t deny herself the pleasure of seeing Harry’s body in its most perfect form. Even if it would be for just her eyes. He didn’t have to know.

She sighed, peeling herself away from Harry’s room and stomping slowly back down to the first floor.

Meanwhile, Harry was still standing in the same spot she had left him in. His mind was replaying Macy’s expression and blatant word vomit over and over, looking for any indication of what he perceived to have occurred. She had been staring at his behind, hadn’t she?

The discomfort was gone as soon as it appeared. He wasn’t a prude when it came to his body, but he also didn’t show it off at every chance he could. Still, her stare and responding fluster gave him a new perspective. He bit his lip, giving himself a figurative pat-on-the-back as he grabbed his towel.

_Hm, I guess briefs were a good idea._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a fun little thing i came up with. 'cause what's more mundane than housework?
> 
> If you have a request for this series, hit me up on [tumblr](http://katasstrophee.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/katasstropheee).


	5. Roasting For You

Harry peered into the oven, screwing up his eyes in hopes it would give him a better view. From what he could make out through the grimy screen, the roast beef was browning perfectly at its edges. It still had fifteen minutes on the clock, and he still needed to steam the broccoli and prepare the gravy.

He made a mental note of his next three steps as he wiped his hands on the dish cloth. He was about to turn towards the stove when he caught another soft cough coming from the entrance to the kitchen. There had been a few of these over the past few minutes, much to Harry’s discontent. He dropped the towel onto the bench, resting his hands far apart and dropping his head to his chest.

He sighed. “I told you, I have no need for your assistance.”

“I know.”

He lifted his head, along with his brow, giving Macy a firm stare. “Then must you stand there and scrutinise me?”

“I-I’m not scrutinising you” she denied, tucking away a curl that had come loose from her bun. “I just… don’t like sitting by while you have your hands full.”

“Macy, the whole point of me making you dinner is for you to simply enjoy it.”

“No, I know. I know. I’m sorry.”

Through the warm glow of candlelight that lit the room, Harry could swear Macy’s cheeks burned a few shades pinker. How could he be mad at her? He knew all too well how fidgety Macy could get when she couldn’t help with something. Relaxation came from hard work and focus, and she had done nothing to deserve such a luxury.

So with one final look at her doe eyes and oblique face, he gave in. “Alright, fine. I’ll give you something to do.”

“Yes!” She did nothing to hide her excitement. She approached the kitchen, rubbing her hands in participation. Harry chucked her an apron to protect her light sapphire dress from food debris. She turned, preparing her fingers to tie the strings together, while he took his place behind her to hold her hair out of the way. It has become just another part of their routine. Just another way they worked perfectly in sync with each other.

“Okay, where do you want me?”

He had taken a moment to think, going through the rest of his recipe list to find the perfect part for her. “You… can stir the sauce.” He poured a cup of fresh boiled water into a jug, followed by four spoonful’s of gravy powder. He brought the jug to the table, where the jittery Macy stood waiting for instructions. “Here, you go.”

He handed her the whisk, which she held up to the light. Harry had already walked away, inspecting a pan by the sink. All he had said to do was stir the sauce. _Piece of cake_. “Alright, I’ll just… start stirring then.”

As she placed the implement into the liquid, she missed Harry’s growing smile. He turned to look over his shoulder at her. “Do you need me to demonstrate how it’s done.”

“What- _pff._ No.”

“Are you sure, because-“

“Harry, It’s fine. I’ve got this.”

“No, no. Please allow me.”

As they bickered, he had approached her from behind. She felt his breath hit the base of her neck before his arm, which enveloped her waist. His other hand took her own in a soft grip and started pushing the turn of the whisk in the opposite direction.

At first she didn’t engage. She held tight to her form, struggling as Harry’s control got stronger. But then Harry got closer. His lips kissed her bare skin, following the curve of her throat to the tough muscles on her shoulder. She could not keep up her stamina if he kept playing dirty this way.

But she also didn’t want it to stop. She leant back into his embrace and let him lead the way as new sensations travelled through her body.

“Hm… Harry, you’re gonna ruin dinner if you- uh, keep this up.”

“ye of little faith, Ms Vaughn.” He planted one last, long kiss on her cheek. “I think you have it from here.”

“Well, thank you for the demonstration.” Before he could escape, she pecked his lips. Then again. Then Harry leant in to deepen the final caress. “Hm, you taste amazing.”

He chuckled beneath his breath. “Wait till you try dinner.”

She hummed in return as Harry removed himself from her side. Despite the heat from the kitchen and Macy’s growing titillation, she missed his absence. She closed her eyes as she finished her task, letting his aura linger in her hand, and on the back of her neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had completely forgotten even writing this one, so it was a pleasant thing to find. and now you may all enjoy it too. :)
> 
> for more stories and other such fun things, come find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/katasstropheee). say hi.


	6. Love Me Naked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> giving credit where credit is due, i need to give a shoutout to [@kat_impossible](https://twitter.com/kat_impossible) on twitter for suggesting i listen to the song ["naked" by ella mai](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TzdTMxD1q3w&ab_channel=EllaMaiVEVO). it happened to be the PERFECT song to listen to while writing this, and inspired the title of this chapter too.
> 
> also, i would like to shout out a yet completed hacy fic; ["when i get that feeling"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23832115/chapters/57268054) by [mgreenwood (majestrix)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Majestrix/pseuds/MGreenwood). my story has a lot of similarities to her own, and i guess you could say it inspired me. read THAT fic if you want something a little more intimate and downright dirty! ;)

Macy was surprised the afternoon had been so quiet. Not a murmur from the magical world, nor any conflict from the opposite end of the spectrum. It seemed even creatures of abnormal size and abilities took the occasional sabbatical.

She appreciated it much, having spent the morning at full thrust in her duties as a charmed one. Her sisters had provided support in the vanquish of a particularly vicious harpy, who took a lot more to detain than the girls had expected. They had eventually succeeded, but not before taking a rather violent bashing in the process. Many bruises had blossomed as the girls made their way home, crying for Harry as soon as they had broken through the barricade around the house.

Macy had stood back, letting Harry dote on her sisters first. When he had sought out Macy for the same treatment, she declined. He observed her posture, and the way she held the crook of her arm, disguised as a guarded fold of the arms. And while he knew she was clearly hiding more pain than she was letting on, he let her go. He observed her climb the stairs in slow and delicate steps, making sure to keep an ear out. She would eventually call out for him, so he knew it was only a matter of time.

Until then, he kept up small talk with Maggie and Mel until they got distracted by other things. He let them go with a cheery wave, hands already flicking the kettle back to life for another round of fresh tea.

Macy still hadn’t called for him, but he hadn’t reached the point of panic just yet. He could feel her on the east end of the house – her bedroom, in the far left corner where her bathroom was positioned. _Of course_. After most hectic days, Macy often turned in early, throwing her worries and troubles away with a warm bath. Now that he was concentrating more, he could detect the soft swell of violin coming from the top floor.

He took her favourite teacup out of the cabinet, setting it on a silver tray with a container of sugar cubes and a small rose, snipped straight from the stem of their small kitchen window terrace. He wanted her to feel as relaxed as possible, while also shrugging off the fact that doting on her was one of his favourite things to do.

Harry _was_ a man of very simple tastes.

#

As Harry works on his treats downstairs, Macy feels anything but relaxed. She regrets not taking Harry up on his offer of healing.

It took all her effort to not give it away in front of him, climbing the stairs like they could roll out from right beneath her at any moment. So when she was out of his sight and in the safety of her bedroom, she let out the longest, deepest groan she had ever mustered. It came from somewhere so deep in her chest, that it startled her. But any startling motion was immediately halted as pain shot up her back.

It took every last mass of energy she could conjure to remove her clothes, let alone fill the tub and climb over the high rim of porcelain to get in to it. By the time she was seated, all that stamina was gone. And it took very little effort from there to sink into the scalding and soapy water. It felt pleasant to be submerged without another care in the world, at least for the rest of the day.

But now without the need to exert any more strength, she found herself drifting. Even concern was drained away as she slowly melted, the water already risen to reach her top lip.

_Tap, tap, tap._

She surged, barely noticing the pint of water that slipped from its ceramic barricade and onto the floor. Her heart couldn’t take another pounding like this.

“Macy, It’s Harry love. May I come in?” Harry cautioned his words very carefully, knowing that Macy despised being interrupted during her relaxation period.

Macy wiped small droplets of soapy dew off her face, just before they could fall into her eyes. They were already burning with threats of tears, having jostled her body well enough to cause severe aches to travel the length of her torso. “Yes.” She instructed plainly, trying to keep her composure. She didn’t want him to worry any more than she believed he already was.

Before he could reach for the knob, the door opened of its own accord, led by magic to meet the adjacent wall with a soft thud. He was relieved, having both hands full balancing the delicate silverware. He slowly strolled into the room, instantly surrounded by furious steam. It clung to his shirt and forehead almost instantly. He looks in the direction of the bathtub. Macy’s face is silhouetted through the half-closed curtain, but he can tell something’s amiss. Even the comfort he finds in the rhythm of her breathing is course and sharp.

“Macy” Harry sighed as he approached, falling to his knees when he’s close enough to see her face in its full and utter perfection. “Dearest, you should’ve called for me.”

He says this with so much attentiveness, but Macy still hears the accusation that isn’t present in his voice. “I know. I’m sorry. I honestly thought it wasn’t too-“ She winces as another strike shoots up from her hip.

“Okay. Okay, hang on love.” He places the tray on the closed seat of the toilet and gives all his attention to Macy. She’s seated in an awkward hunch in the center of the tub, so he places a soft hand on her shoulder, only producing enough pressure to slowly position her forward. She slides as swiftly as she can, following his silent instructions and moving up to the head of the bowl.

She keeps her stare focused on the wall. Her eyes run over the distinct pattern of marble and the small fractures along the tiles, warped and seeped with age. She listens for Harry’s movements, catching the swell of water around her waist as he dips something in and out of the tub.

His trousers are damp from sitting in direct line of Macy’s tussle, but he pays it no mind. There were more important things than his own comfort to consider right now. Having found Macy’s loofah in a small basket at the far end of the bathroom, he dipped in the water, letting it absorb as much moisture as possible before rinsing it out.

Then, he placed it directly between Macy’s shoulder blades, paying close attention to how Macy’s body reacts. She stiffens upon first contact, so he stops. He lets her get used to the sensation, watching her shoulders dip as she grows accustomed to the course material on her skin. After a moment, he continues along his path, following the line of her spine down her back, dragging with as little friction as possible. About a quarter of the way down, he lets the power building in his chest crawl down his arm and out of his hand. A ray of light appears in the centre of his palm and grows brighter the further he travels.

Macy feels every ache in increasing measure as he moves the sponge lower. But then, just as suddenly, that pain is masked with a warm spark, that blossoms from the center of his touch and expands out, quite quickly and from seemingly out of nowhere. She takes a sudden breath in, unable to exhale as a feeling like golden sunlight takes over her pores.

Healing does not usually feel this intimate. Or tantalising. But it can be. And Harry’s dedication and worship for Macy and her body makes this experience all the more titillating. As he creeps closer to the curve of her hips, she shudders. She brings a hand to grip the edge of the spa, afraid that she will just take off into the sky if she’s not holding on to something. Harry covers it quickly, squeezing her fingers and keeping her centred.

She has never been more grateful to know and recognise the touch of his hands.

But just as quickly as this feeling of pure euphoria came, it’s dissolved. With no where to fall but down, she sinks deep into the water, dragging Harry’s arm with her. He is prepared, already bracing her arms before her tender back can slam into the porcelain.

“Easy, love. Easy. I’ve got you.” These sweet words are murmured into her hair, as he leans in to kiss the strip of skin between her eye and brow. Her own eyes are closed, savouring that feeling a moment longer, before it can vanish forever.

A part of her will remember it forever. When she’s lying in the bathtub after another long day. Or every time Harry touches her in ways too lascivious for her own good.

For now, she can simply lay his arms, with rolled-up sleeves now drenched to the brim of his shoulders. “Sorry about your suit, Harry.”

He chuckles, his lips ghosting over Macy’s ear. “I’m not sure you meant that.”

“Maybe I didn’t” she utters cordially.

Somehow without removing his embrace or any distance between them, he plucks the small rose off the tray. Her fingers come up to meet his halfway, holding the flower by the stem while he slides his fingers down to caress her wrists.

Macy, once a creature of habit, who would not even let a hurricane disturb her recreational space, had let Harry in with open arms, and an open heart. Perhaps she could share her space after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm on twitter too; [@katasstropheee](http://twitter.com/katasstropheee), if you're interested.


	7. A Tease.

The end credits to Heaven’s Vice is playing when Harry enters the bedroom. Macy is humming the tune to herself, her eyes glued to her reflection in the vanity mirror. He watches her fingers dance delicately over the plaits she’s stitching through her hair.

It was a typical night time routine in the Vera-Vaughn manor, ever since Harry had become privy to all of Macy’s routines and rituals. Since she had welcomed him to share her bed. It was a blessing, having to never lay another night on the cold, brittle mattress of the fold-out sofa accumulating dust in the attic. It was a blessing to simply watch Macy fall asleep, to have her close to him, to hold her.

It was so simple. And yet, it meant more to him than magic ever could.

He must’ve been staring for a while, hand still clenched to the closed door. Macy, off in her own space, with songs flying around her head, was startled when she finally caught him in the reflection. She turned, her hair whipping around to land gently on her back. She had a perplexed expression that could match Harry’s own, and could probably beat it in a match of scepticism.

“Everything okay, Harry?”

“Yes, of course!” he exclaimed, shaking his head out of his own reverie. He approached Macy in quick succession, but slowed down upon meeting her side. He bent over to place a kiss on her head. Then her cheek. Then her lips. He lingered longer than he should have. But her lips tasted like cherry balm, and they felt warm against the growing chill of the house.

Nights were often cold here, even in the middle of July. It was the old timber floors and painted walls, full of history and magical entanglements, that would make you shiver on a humid, summer’s evening. But Harry found Macy could stave off the cold, simply by touch. She could produce flames at a moment’s notice, but even so her touches were scorching in more ways than one. He could still feel the marks under his skin hours, if not days, after receiving them.

Even now, his lips felt the raw heat as he broke the kiss and gave her an affection gaze. “I have never been better.”

Macy smiled back, cheeks brimming with a rosy-pink haze. “Would you care to join me in bed, Mr Greenwood?”

He hummed, feeling the growing tension building from Macy’s suggestion. She could be tantalizing when she wanted to be, and Harry, just like an elastic band, would stretch to fit her needs, and come bouncing right back with every tug she made. “Just let me change first.”

He was exhausted. Today hadn’t been as overly active as others, and the demon’s they did fight were on the same level as a bug squished beneath his shoe, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t worn out. Honestly, he was surprised Macy didn’t seem perturbed in any way. She was her usual bouncy, vigorous self. And she made that sentiment very clear as she grabbed the hilt of his belt for just a moment, before letting go.

“Don’t take too long.”

He didn’t. As he stripped off his shirt and unbuckled his belt, he could feel her staring. She had moved as he undressed, taking a seat at the head of the bed, like she would be if she was tuning in for another adventure with Gideon and Levi before turning in. But her laptop was shut and charging on her desk, and all her attention seemed to be on him. It travelled down his body as his pants rolled off his thighs. It gazed daggers at his briefs and bare back, which he kept turned away from her. She could just make out his bare chest from the mirror across the room, but that was all the satisfaction she would get for the time being.

He loved teasing Macy to the point of desperation. Loved it more so when she voiced said desperation, like she was right now. “Hurry up, Harry. The bed’s getting cold.”

“I’m sure it’s still plenty warm.” _With you in it._ Such words didn’t need to be spoken. His actions seem to say it all.

He threw on a shirt – old and tattered, with the Hilltowne University logo fading with every wash and rinse cycle. A bit of an irony, if you asked him. But it was comfortable enough to sleep in. And it afforded him another sharp gaze from Macy, who was pouting by the time he turned around.

“Well, I guess I’m ready.”

She gave him a knowing glance, before turning to her side and placing her head on the pillow. Behind the stubborn expression and reaction to his appearance, he knew she wasn’t upset. If anything, he knew she was toying with him too. They would tease each other to the ends of the earth if they could. And when they came back together, it would be the most passionate thing the world would ever see. It would alight a new sun, if Macy’s powers were to work in that way.

He climbed in, kissing the cold shoulder she offered him. His hand travelled down her arm, taking the strap of her gown with it, exposing more flesh he could ravish. A particular spot on her throat always made her shudder, so he kissed her there, and smiled through his teeth at the desired effect.

“Oh, Harry” she moaned, finally turning and forcing him back. She kissed him before he could utter another word, her intentions now clearer than ever. There was no need to speak anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yet another fic i had written, then completely forgot about. it's short, sweet, and a bit steamy. ;)
> 
> feel free to make requests for this series over on my [twitter](http://twitter.com/katasstropheee).


	8. Midnight Swim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a poll some time back asking what you all wanted to see for the next chapter. It ended up being a tie victory, for "sneaking away" and "late night swimming". Combining the two, this is what I came up with.
> 
> Also, I must shout out [@vaughnsecho](http://twitter.com/vaughnsecho) and [@amandawysocki](http://twitter.com/amandawysocki) for beta-ing the chapter for me. Their feedback was so important, and I just really love them a lot.

The gala was held for community outreach and celebration, and was located at one of their closest friend Leon’s lavish mansions. The satyr always knew how to plan the right shindig, so much so that he had even prepared the girl’s attire in advance.

Melanie got a black jumpsuit, with wide anklets and a lace collar.

Maggie was adorned in a short and shimmering rose gold dress, that caught onto every beam of golden candlelight.

Macy was in a silk so threadbare, she felt naked. But she loved its deep green shade and floor-length finish, hiding her basic pumps from prying eyes.

It seemed to have the same effect on Harry, who watched her climb slowly down the stairs, her sisters in tow. She blushed beneath the layered curls that framed her face, gushing at the sheer lust protruding from Harry’s stare. He hid it well, masking it behind praise of all three woman’s evening gowns. But his eyes never left Macy. Not once.

As the party dawned on, with the guests drinking more liquor and getting much more acquainted with their neighbours, Macy stood at the edge of the large room, a half-full champagne flute dangling from her fingers. She observed Melanie, who had naturally inserted herself into the affairs of the pixies. They spun around her, playing with her ponytail, enamoured by whatever she was talking about. Macy smiled, knowing her sister was in her element and would be there for most of the evening.

As would Maggie, who had taken up the role of both chaperone and tour guide for her date. This was Jordan’s first party within the magical community, and he was taking every moment he could to point his finger around the hall and ask questions. Maggie was rolling her eyes, but looked anything but pestered. She kept pace with his long strides, her grip stapled to the groove of his arm to make sure he didn’t wonder too far, or touch something he shouldn’t.

At one point in the evening, Maggie caught her sister’s eye and held it, crooking a head for a moment before her eyes lit up in realisation. Then she nodded. Macy didn’t need the approval or permission of her youngest sibling. But the last ounce of fear that had gripped and held her to the edge of the party disappeared with that gesture. She nodded back, her eyes leaving Maggie and sweeping the room for her initial target.

_There._ She located Harry standing over by the buffet table, both hands filled with an assortment of sweet delicacies, shoving one after the other into his mouth. She assumed it was so he could avoid conversation, as he didn’t seem to be socialising as comfortably as the rest of the guests were.

_Well, It’s about time he stepped out of that corner,_ she thought, approaching him slowly, dropping her glass off on a waiter’s tray as she picked up her pace. She was anxious to leave the party, to do something that her mind perceived as dangerous, but something her heart longed to do. She was unsure of what it would take to have Harry be in agreement to her scheme, but her sudden boldness was willing her to try just about anything.

She reached his side, giving him an amused grin as he licked off his fingers. He was startled by her arrival, but saved himself from embarrassment under a muffled chuckle. “Sorry, love” he said affectionately, swallowing his last mouthful of chocolate eclair.

Macy analysed his face – the harsh blush that seemed to rise to his cheeks at her close proximity, the light dab of sweat on his forehead. The small stain of chocolate that ran along the dip on his left cheek. She took a finger and scooped at the mess, wiping it clean before taking the bed of her thumb and dabbing it onto her tongue. Harry watched the finger rise and disappear past her lips. His throat suddenly felt parched. “I could use another drink” he muttered absently, turning to look behind him for something to quench his thirst.

But a hand on his cheek halted his movements before they had barely begun. Macy’s hand felt warm to the touch, and ever so delicate. “I have a better idea” she whispered, her eyes beckoning for him to follow. If he had a choice at all, he wouldn’t have had much sway, as Macy’s other hand was gripping the sleeve of his jacket tightly, pulling him in her wake.

She was making her way out of the lit ballroom, and into a shaded hall. People lingered nearby, walking to and from the bathrooms, or having small talk where others might not overhear them. Macy had other plans, which were much more lucrative than simple small talk.

Harry picked up his pace, walking alongside her. He caught a glimpse of Macy’s face every time they passed under the small lanterns that lined the stone walkway, and he couldn’t help but gaze in awe at the pure rapturous expression on it. “Where are we going?” he asked nervously, taking a look over his shoulder.

She expected him to be nervous. His modesty would never allow him to explore the pleasures that came from breaking society’s rules. So to give him some ease, she quickly changed their trajectory and dragged him into a corner, hidden from the dwindling party guests. There, with his back firmly placed between the cold, hard bricks and her solid, tepid body, she kissed him.

All pretences seemed to fly from Harry’s mind the moment Macy made her intentions clear. And while he wouldn’t dare do this on any other Saturday evening surrounded by company - right here and now, in the arms of the woman he loved, he let himself fall loose of the mannered man he prided himself to be. He held her back, his grip on her dress making the straps slip a bit over the curve of her shoulders. Her hands held his face and throat, manoeuvring them in whatever ways would deepen the kiss. His tongue still tasted like sweet chocolate, with a slight hint of mint. She craved more, nipping his lip with her teeth.

“So this was your idea?” he asked quickly when she allowed him a moment to.

She let one last kiss linger, mixed with the harsh breathing that came from losing her breath. “Not exactly.” She took his sleeve back, tugging at it as she slowly backed up and out of the mansion. When they hit the cool night air, Harry detected the strong aroma of chlorine. It mixed with Macy’s musk perfectly, making his tongue dip out to taste what remained of Macy’s gloss, smudged over his lips.

She continued to sway in her steps, keeping her eyes on Harry, trusting him to break her fall if her steps were to faulter. But she had no need of his assistance. She travelled down the steps one at a time, without skipping or tripping. It was like she had mapped out this very trail in her mind, knowing where every crack and dip in the pavement would be.

Harry was still amazed by her, every day. Even her most mundane traits and abilities left him speechless.

“Now wait here” she said, halting their descent. He did as he was told, fighting the urge to reach out and pull her back into him. She had let go and stepped back, continuing to keep her eyes focused forward, rather than behind. Her smile grew, and with one last wink and a flip of her hair, she was turning. And running. And jumping into a perfect cannonball, breaking the surface of the glowing swimming pool. The one Harry had failed to notice until now.

He stumbled forward, a hand reaching out. As if that would help at all. He quickly tucked it back into his side before Macy would notice. She broke the surface of the water, her hair drenched and sticking to every bare expanse of her neck and shoulders. The straps of her dress barely clung to her skin, and as she turned to face Harry, she noticed the peer of his stare immediately change. He was staring openly at her chest, jaw dropped, failing to mask any semblance of composure. The bare thread of the dress was shaped to every curve of her waist and breasts, so she could only imagine what Harry was seeing from his view above her.

She snapped a finger in his direction, snapping him out of his mesmerisation. He took a look at her eyes, pupils wide and deep, glowing with the illumination of the teal water she swam in. “Will you join me, Harry?”

She expected one protest, at least. Something about not wanting to get caught, or respecting the property of the place they were visiting. But words had barely escaped his lips before he was throwing off his jacket. It landed somewhere near a burrow of thick bushes, forgotten as he stepped down the small archway that led safely into the shallowest end of the pool. Unlike Macy, he had managed to kick off his shoes before coming in. Macy’s heels had come off mid-descent, and were floating somewhere around her. She didn’t bother to look for them - she knew they would still be there when she was done.

And the night, cool and sparkling around her like a million stars, was still very much in its infancy.

She stepped back with every tread of Harry’s approach, teasingly getting lower and lower as the surface of the pool rose. She noticed the way he struggled, attempting to pick up the pace. Clearly, all semblance of decorum had vanished, and Harry had only one agenda on his mind.

He soon gave up on walking, and instead rushed forward, fully submerged in the chilling liquid right up to his chin. He shivered, but let the momentum of his movement warm his muscles, at least until he was closer to Macy. She seemed to radiate heat, even more so now.

He failed to keep his eyes on her face, only wanting to see more of her body. But as he eyes flickered between her floating head and what was immersed beneath, he noticed her motions, swaying as fluidly as the waves he produced in his race to meet her. Her hands dragged the soft fabric down her arms, following the curve of her body over her chest and down to her hips. He hadn’t failed to notice how bare she was beneath – bare of bra or abetting underwear.

He blinked, slowly his own motion to a complete stop. He didn’t even flinch when Macy threw her dress out of the pool, splashing him right in the face.

“Why’d you stop?” she asked, her voice deep in pure arousal.

Once again, words failed to reach his lips. If he was frank, he wouldn’t need them. All he wanted to do was attach his mouth to Macy, and to run his hands through her hair and over her skin. To make her squirm and shiver in the ways only she could do for him.

But before Harry could reach forward and claim his prize, he was blinded. A number of lights above their heads sparked into life, forcing their hands out of the water to shield their eyes. In the midst of this, his intuition kicked in, forcing him ahead. He braced Macy, fully enveloping her into a stronghold and backing her onto the edge of the pool. He was a shield to whatever threat had just appeared, much to Macy’s sudden confusion and worry.

“Okay, who’s out there?”

The “threat” did not sound dangerous, nor sinister. In fact, they both recognised the polished inflictions almost immediately. Macy was still feeling the warm effects of her desire, but her cheeks brewed in temperature as she realised the predicament she put Harry and herself in.

“Ms Vaughn, is that you in there?”

She hid her face in Harry’s shoulder, only peaking it out enough to not muffle her voice. “Yes, Leon. I-I am so sorry. I-“

“Are you with somebody?” he asked, ignoring her apologies.

She looked up at Harry, his own skin rubified from the sudden intrusion. “I’m here as well” he called out, feeling there is no longer any need for deception. Whatever punishment was to be seen for their crazy exploit, he would take it too. “Look, whatever you might be thinking right now, I take full responsibility for it.”

“Harry, don’t!” Macy muttered, knowing Harry would take the fall for them both before he had even said it.

“Bullshit!”

“Uh, I beg your pardon?” Harry stuttered.

“Oh, I apologise for the profanity, but let’s be honest here. Harry, this was not your idea.”

He was as lost for words as Macy seemed to be. She was sending him a silent remark, which he could only shrug at, shouting a response back to Leon. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

“Of course I am” the man embellished, causing Harry to roll his eyes at the obnoxiousness of the statement. “Well, I’ll leave you both to it. Just make sure you take all of your things with you when you leave. Goodness knows I have no need for heels, but it won’t stop me from claiming them, ‘k?... Alright you two, have fun.”

A moment of silence later, and the lights went out. It took them both another moment to accumulate to the darkness, and then another to get over what had just occurred.

The first to recover was Macy, who upon realisation that they were safe, and ultimately invited to continue their rendezvous, burst into laughter. Her face was still buried into the curve of Harry’s neck, tickling the sensitive stretch of skin beneath his chin. She caused him to chuckle too, letting the relief slowly run down his spine and out of his flexing fingers.

“Well, who knew Leon was comfortable with open engagements of sexual activity?” he said, rubbing a hand in small circles over Macy’s back.

“I certainly didn’t” she barked, wiping a finger over her eye as her laughter died down. As it passed, their eyes met once more. Macy’s pupils were still as wide as the moment they snuck away. “So” she asked, her breath coming out in sharp gasps, as her arousal returned. “Where were we?”

“Well…” Once again, Harry let his actions speak for him. As masterfully as he could, he stripped the white cotton shirt from his shoulders, mirroring Macy’s prior gesture. He even chucked the fabric in the same general direction as her dress, watching Macy’s stare flicker down, focused on his bare chest. “I may need assistance. With my trousers” he muttered meekly, stepping closely, crowding her further against the edge of the stone barrier.

She didn’t hesitate to drop her hands beneath the water. To tug forcefully on his belt as he leant in and ravaged her lips.

If any embarrassment from their sudden exposure still lingered, it would’ve vanished instantly. All that was left was each other, the length of the pool, and the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I take requests for chapters over on [twitter](http://twitter.com/katasstropheee). If you're interested.


	9. Sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written in just under an hour, and for a very special friend's birthday! So HAPPY BIRTHDAY JELA! I hope you like this mess of a chapter I conjured up out of nowhere. And I hope you have an amazing day and new year of your life!

The ensuite door swung open, introducing harsh light to the room’s mellow complexion. Harry barely noticed. Macy observed him from the far side of the room – he was already buried deep beneath the thick comforter, his reading glasses balanced on the edge of his nose, his eyes concentrated in a way she was fairly used to.

The book that drew in all his attention was leather bound, but frayed around the edges. The closer she got to the bed, the more she noticed its age. The yellowing pages, torn in the corners, were held delicately between Harry’s fingers.

With the light shut off, bringing the room to near darkness once again, Macy got into the bed. With clear intention, she leant into Harry, winding her arms around his chest and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. If he had felt it, she couldn’t tell. He barely flinched, nor blushed at her approach.

She turned her eye to the page that had him captivated. The words themselves were written in a font small enough to blur all the words together, if she even knew what they were. The alphabet, from what she could tell, was unrecognisable. “What are you reading?” she asked, her voice cracking through the silence like dull thunder.

Harry, once more, did not appear startled. But he answered her slowly, his tongue dipping out to wet the corner of his parched lips. “Enochian.”

“Enochian,” she remarked in disbelief.

“Well, a dialect of Enochian. There are several to note, but this one in particular comes from the southeast.” He explained without blinking, nor acknowledging Macy’s presence at all. His eyes, glued to the words, scrolled heavily over each line.

Macy turned her head and watched his irises slide gently from left to right, following the passages with great care. She sighed, loudly. “Well, if you wouldn’t mind putting it down for just a moment, and tending to your wife…”

His eyes paused, flicking up and away from the page. Like his trance was finally broken, he turned to Macy. He tried to keep his expression free of embarrassment or guilt, but he couldn’t keep a mute expression at Macy’s own pouted lips and doe eyes. “I’m sorry,” he chuckled, turning the novel over and resting it on his lap. “I have been a terrible husband.”

“Nonsense.” She batted her eyes, smirking as he leant forward and kissed her. She melted into it, gripping the collar of his shirt to draw him in. Both of them were too tired to go any further, but they let the kiss linger a moment longer, drawing back to catch their breath as Harry laid a hand on Macy’s warm cheek.

“Goodnight my dear,” he whispered.

“Will you be joining me?” She was already shifting as she asked, rolling onto her side.

“In a moment. I would like to finish this chapter first.”

She hummed, giving him her best glare over her shoulder. “Well, don’t take too long.”

“I will strive not to.”

She chuckled, moving down in the covers till they reached her throat. Reaching for her lamp, the loss of light in her eyes left her with a perfect silhouette of Harry. She stared fondly at his profile, her eyes drifting slowly closed. ~~~~

#

_Plosi believed a… a lansh lied g a s-source c tol magic-_

Macy’s eyes flew open, the intrusion making her eyes shut against the sudden vertigo. “Harry,” she called, rolling back towards his side of the bed.

He was in the same position she had left him – seated up, eyes glued to the old book, and glasses dangerously close to falling right off his face. “Harry,” she tried again, her hand reaching for his and shaking it gently.

This time, she noticed him shudder in surprise at her touch. He shook it away, his eyes not leaving the page. But he did lift her arm, leading it to his lips, kissing each knuckle precisely before planting one last peck on the back of her hand. “Sorry if I woke you, love.”

“It’s fine, I- I thought you were finishing the chapter.”

“I’m almost there.”

She flicked her head back around, eyeing what she could of her charging phone. It lit up at her stare. “It’s almost midnight.” She turned back. “Just leave it for the morning.”

“No, I’m very nearly done.” He threw a brief glance her way, his wink almost missed behind his droopy stare. “I promise. Go back to sleep.”

She took her hand back as he placed it softly back on his knee. She turned away, grumbling a reply, already lost to sleep before her head hit the pillow once again.

#

“Son of a witch.”

She didn’t bother to open her eyes. From the sound of his exclamation, she could assume he wasn’t in the bed with her. It came from somewhere to her right. Picturing the room in her mind, she imagined he was somewhere near the window, pacing the length of the floor, if the dull thuds that passed from ear to ear were any indication.

“Harry,” she mumbled, half asleep and unmotivated to rise to the temptation of dragging him with sheer force back to bed.

“I’m almost done love, I promise.”

She hummed, accepting his empty commitment and falling back into the darkness.

#

The last time she had awoken, she was unaware of the time. Now, with her wide eyes flickering around the expense of the room, she could somehow feel how late it was. She turned her head to the desk and eyed her clock, flinching at the sudden blast of light it illuminated in her face. Squinting through it, she read the bright, bold numbers to herself.

“3.15. Seriously?”

Her hand reached out for Harry, already knowing she would hit nothing but crumpled sheets. She didn’t want to waste the effort it took her getting to sleep on standing and searching for her husband, but she knew him more than he cared to admit. Especially when he obsessed over something he could very well leave for the morning.

So she swung her legs out of bed, feeling the cool night air wrap around her skin as soon as she was unburied from her warm cocoon. The floor made her feet flinch, but she grew quickly accustomed to its algidity. She didn’t bother to throw on a gown or slippers on her way out. She simply left the room, following the scent of cedarwood and the light glow of flickering light that came from upstairs.

The attic. Made sense. It was often Harry’s place of escape when his mind got too heavy to bear.

She followed the stairs up, stumbling a little under her fatigue. Making it in one piece, she tapped the door, pushing it open further with every knock.

This time, Harry jumped, and she noticed. She stepped inside, eyeing the few lit candles that danced on the edge of the room. “Seriously?” was all she asked, finished her previous remark.

“Macy, love. You didn’t have to-“

“No, I did,” she interrupted, snatching the book from Harry’s hand before he could blink. The assertion that small task took seemed to take her last ounce of energy. She collapsed on the couch beside him, his hand immediately reaching for her shoulder, offering balance so she wouldn’t completely topple over. “It’s 3 in the morning, Harry. Have you even tried to get some sleep?”

He opened his mouth, ready to falsify the truth. But he knew any bullshit that flew from his lips would meet empty air. He sighed, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his exhaustion. “No,” he admitted openly. “I got too lost in the pages of that… damn book.”

“I know how you get,” she acknowledged, her hand resting on his leg. “I think we can still catch a few hours of rest.”

“But Macy-“

“Let me help.”

Somehow, she had managed to lie them both down, cushioned against the back of the couch. He held her from behind, fluffing up the makeshift pillow so they both had enough support. “The candles!” he remembered, almost moving to get up.

Macy shushed him, reaching out a hand. With a quick flick of her wrist, the attic was plunged into darkness. He blinked, taking a moment to adjust to the light, only illuminated by the moon and distant stars of the sky. “Uh, thank you,” he offered awkwardly, resting back in place.

“Just go to sleep,” she murmured, already drifting back into unconsciousness.

Harry tapped his toes against the tough padding of the sofa, but the longer he lied there, letting the frosty air of the room cover his skin like a blanket, the more tired he felt.

And finally, without a wink of effort, he was asleep too. Still aware of his arms cradling Macy close, her breathing in rhythm with his resting heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/katasstropheee) for other messy chapters (both fic-wise and of my life!)


	10. Birthday Wishes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is yet another gift disguised as a chapter in hacy's life.
> 
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY SARAH! a.k.a. [@sarahschepp1](//twitter.com/SarahSchepp1). you've been this ever-constant, bright star on my night of a timeline, and i feel blessed to have met you and to call you a friend! i hope this fic (while on the short side, sorry about that) fills your day with a bit of joy and love.
> 
> based on a prompt personally chosen by sarah, because we have yet to celebrate Harry's 100 birthday.

Harry gazed at the book longingly. Held between steady fingers, he marvelled at how genuine the leather felt, at how the smell of its old pages hit his nose like a distant, yet recognisable scent. He hadn’t opened it yet, being afraid of ruining its integrity, given how old he was assured it was. “It’s an original” was all Mel had said upon watching him unwrap it.

But what else needed to be said? He had no need of words when the look on each sister’s face painted the perfect picture. Mel was every bit the confident and guarded lady she had grown to be, even with a smile slowly creasing her cheeks. Maggie had been the opposite – her smile all pearly-whites and hidden behind a lavender handkerchief, where the occasional snuffle would protrude. Then he had gazed at Macy…

Oh Macy. His love. His life. Her eyes were as hearty as the flames that danced beneath their mantelpiece, but burned just as bright. Her lips quivered with something unsaid, but he knew she wouldn’t dare speak it. Not here, or then.

He sat in the same spot he had occupied when he first got the gift. The sisters had long left him to his own company, bidding him goodnight and warm wishes. Wherever they were, they remained as silent as the night, inviting no sound but the crackling of fire, and the distant howl of hurried wind.

Until he was interrupted, gladly, by a soft voice coming in from the main room of the house. “Is it too much?”

He peered up, taking in Macy’s distance. The way her hands were pressed into her thighs, waiting for an invitation. “What was that?” he asked, turning to give her his full attention, fingers still carefully secured to the book.

“We were deciding on what would be the perfect gift for you,” she explained, stepping closer but still out of reach. He waited patiently for her to continue. “It was Mel’s idea. She had seen you eyeing a collection of Tolstoy books at McCarthy’s that one time. It took a lot of research and patience to find it. Mostly, because Mel wanted to bite Ray’s head off every other minute.” She chuckled at that, a small squeak escaping her throat. She coughed it away, blushing, watching as an affectionate gaze lit up Harry’s face.

“But he helped us find this. It was definitely the most expensive thing we could find, and we perhaps could’ve gotten you something less fragile, but-“

“Macy” he interjected, noticing the portended signs of rambling, something Macy did when she was nervous. He patted the sofa, beckoning her to join him. After a moment, she did. She took the offered seat, but kept her hands in her lap, fists clenched over her satin nightgown. “I could not have asked for a better gift,” he said softly, reassuring Macy.

She looked up, taking in his expression, framed in an orange glow from what little light was left in the room. “I’m glad you like it.”

He huffed. “I think there’s a little more to it than I simply ‘like’ it.” He placed the observed gift down on the coffee-table, still being gentle with its frayed edges. Then he took his hands, perspired but pleasant, and pried Macy’s fists apart. He rubbed his thumbs over her palms as he spoke. “I will treasure it for as long as I live.”

“I think… that will be for a while” Macy assured him, and herself, feeling the comfort of his hands in her own. As he spoke, she crept closer. Close enough to feel the steady intake of breath with every word he said. Close enough to rest her forehead against his, to salivate in his sincerity and love.

“Happy Birthday, Harry,” she whispered, her lips trembling as she felt them meet his. They melted into each other, hands searching for firmer placement as they deepened the kiss.

When he broke off for air, his eyes meeting Macy’s dewed stare, he replied. “Thank you, my love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on [twitter](//twitter.com/katasstropheee), and make a requests. i will seriously consider it.


	11. Fireside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise not every chapter of this will turn into a birthday gift. But if they do... I'm sure you can still find some enjoyment in it.
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is a present for Gabs a.k.a. [@demonlighter](http://twitter.com/demonlighter). HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVE!! I hope this puts you back in the fic-reading mood. :)
> 
> also, as a sidenote, this series does not have a timeframe within the canon of the show, so just go with it.

A small fire, conjured by Macy’s own hand and fuelled with old papers and timber, burned brightly before them, its embers floating and evaporating into the starless night sky. Harry and herself sat by the flames, knees tucked in, balanced on an island of pillows and blankets. It had been Harry’s idea to spend the evening outdoors, enjoying the last remnants of Summer as Fall pushed through to take its place.

With the sisters out and about, finding ways to distract themselves as per Harry’s instruction, the manor was quiet. There was light piano music playing somewhere off in the distance, melding into whatever light topics came up in conversation. Mostly, they kept words to a minimum, too transfixed by the licks and crackle of the fire, and the soft, warm arms Harry had wrapped around Macy’s waist.

She slowly sank back into him, laying her head on his shoulder as he placed a kiss to her cheek. Her skin felt much too cool for his liking, so he brushed his own cheek against hers, relishing in the touch.

“I’ve missed this” Macy mutters, sinking deeper into his embrace.

He nodded against her, knowing exactly what she meant. He recalled the months they had spent taking down the Faction, then cleaning up the disarray and destruction soon after. The amount of effort it took him to heal the wounded, to erase the memories of those who shouldn’t have known about magic in the first place. After days of this, he had almost collapsed under the weight of it all, his mind still poking at all the unease he still felt, even with the late victory.

Luckily, he had Macy there. She had lifted him back to his feet when he needed the pull, made sure he was hydrated when he hadn’t the stomach to eat, and kept his thoughts on anything but the Faction, or Jimmy, or the dozens of other worries he had. All he ever wanted to think about was her lips, and hands, and the way her nose twitched when he applied the slightest pressure to her lobe.

He kissed it in that very moment, eyes closed but perfectly picturing the expression on Macy’s face. “Hm, you keep doing that, and I may take you right here and now.”

“Who says that’s not a part of my plan?”

She shifted slightly, turning just enough to face him. He opened one eye, then the other, staring back into wide eyes, that sparkled like diamonds beneath the lit-up orning. She placed a hand on his cheek, keeping his attention, and his face as close as she could. “You have a plan?”

He nodded, stirring at the sensitivity of her fingers as they brushed down his jawline to the tip of his chin.

“What was it?”

“Hm?” he hummed.

“The plan.”

He was startled back into reality by pressure on his leg. While Macy’s fingers had been busy scratching at his fair stubble, the other hand had been crawling up his thigh, unbeknownst to him. It was itching ever closer to his crotch, ever closer to the spot Macy knew made him weak, and made him beckon to her every will and command.

He swallowed nervously. “Well, there are many stages-“

“Then let me help you count.”

As he searched for the right words, Macy manoeuvred enough to occupy the rest of Harry’s lap, bracketing his legs with her own. She towered over him, her chest in his line of sight, protected by thin straps and fabric that clung carelessly to the curves of her breasts. One soft tug, and he would see a little more than he felt comfortable enough to see. At least in their outdoor setting.

But then, he recalled they were alone. And the excitement in his body, that sent shivers from the tips of his shoulders to the core of his sweatpants, grew anew. “Well, we might as well begin with stage one.”

Macy bit her lips, eyes dipped in arousal. “What was stage one?”

“Honestly?” Harry stuttered, removing a hand from Macy’s waist to reach for something just off to his right. “It was this bottle of wine.” The vintage he held up had been sitting in a bucket of ice, and still felt chilled to the touch. It had never been opened, or noticed. Macy stared at it, startled by its appearance, before turning back to Harry. “Did I… ruin your plan?”

“What? No. No.” He quickly threw the bottle aside, hearing it land with a dull thud among the cushioned debris. Then he took her face between his hands, noting the once frosted touch now felt hot, simmering under his fingertips. “You have done nothing of the sort,” he assured, taking in her expression. “I will always change my plans for you Macy.”

It sounded oddly like a proposal, and lingered in the air as he waited for Macy to catch her breath. “You truly mean that, don’t you?”

He chuckled. “How many more ways can I say it before you finally believe me?”

“Hm, I can think of one or two ways…” Her sentence drifted off her tongue, coming to a halt as her hands found friction, sliding up and under his white pullover. “And maybe, words aren’t needed,” she completed, her lips close enough to his ear to invoke more shivers.

He took it as an invitation, kissing the soft curve of her throat, long enough to conjure his own waves of arousal that travelled down Macy’s spine. He felt it himself as she tugged on the drawstrings of his trousers, wiggling her hips at the sudden pressure.

The fire continue to spew fresh embers into the air, now unnoticed by the two lovers. They were embedded in blankets and pillows, skin to skin, unaware of their worries, or of what would lie in wait tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request a chapter over [@katasstropheee](http://twitter.com/katasstropheee). I'll... most-likely give it a go. :p


	12. The Flight Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Stace/[supagirl_86](http://twitter.com/supagirl_86) on twitter. I don't remember when this was requested, but it has been in the notes on my phone for a while.
> 
> Today, my mental health has been quite low and unforgiving, so I wanted to write something quick, and something that makes me happy. It's on the short side, but I hope reading it puts a skip in your step and a smile on your face.

Macy felt the sweet breeze of Seattle’s winter blister her skin as soon as she exited the plane. The narrow carpeted archway had small crowds bustling through to reach the end, but Macy took her time. She couldn’t deal with another elbow to the ribs, as much as she enjoyed her neighbour’s company on the flight home from New York, and she wasn’t in a rush to start an argument with anyone.

And she knew she would. The close quarters of economy had set her on edge. As she walked, there was a slight limp in her right leg from a cramp in her calf that had yet to settle, and a migraine on the edge of her temple no aspirin could remove. She was happy to be off the flight, but too tired to bother with niceties.

Luckily, she was met with no hostility, or interference. It was smooth sailing, or stumbling as she was, from the exit of the terminal to the luggage pick-up. Even her suitcase seemed to want to get out of there as much as she did, being the very first piece of luggage to appear from behind the black, rubber veil.

She grasped the handle with determination, her eyes scouring the room for her name. Many private drivers and excited families stood in her line of sight, none of them meeting her eye or waving her forward. She shrugged her way through the crowds, feeling a small inkling of claustrophobia crawling back under her skin. She took a breath in, holding it as she brushed past a man wearing too much cologne to be considered bearable.

It seemed she would need to hail a taxi to take her home. She let out a reluctant sigh, slowly morphing into a sob as she caught the long line of pedestrians who had the same idea as her. At this rate, she wouldn’t get home until well into the evening.

That wouldn’t do. She was exhausted, hungry, and a hair away from pulling someone’s weave off for a ride home.

But then, her phone chimed. She was already pulling it from her pocket when it went off. She stared at it, dumbfounded, chalking it up to her slumbering brain cells not being quite in tune with the world around her. It was lit up with a text from a recognisable name, that she clicked into quickly.

The text read, _‘Turn around, love’,_ followed by a green heart, and suggestible winking face.

She did as instructed, meeting a crowd of endless wanderers, right until her eyes met the very face she was looking for.

At any other time in her life, she would look at Harry Greenwood and see someone so good-looking and charming, it would make her swoon into a pile of pure batter. Now, she saw a bright light silhouette his frame, with small beams like a halo above his head, and a smile so shiny, it beckoned her like a lighthouse all the way home. In this instant, home was his arms, which were open wide, welcoming her in.

She ran, her light jog becoming a sprint. Her sore leg screaming out in pain as her heart screamed out for Harry. She dropped the handle of her suitcase, hearing it fall to the floor behind her like a crash of thunder. It went ignored as she collided with her soulmate, crushing his ribs in a hug so tight, and so unforgiving. He held her with likely force, lifting her from her feet to spin her around. To anyone watching, it was a display of absolute rapture – two parts of one whole coming together, fitting into each other in a perfect form.

Or, to the heavy crowds of sweaty bodies, it was a nuisance to sneer at. But those glares of inconvenience didn’t shine a light on either of them. They had their own spotlight, leaving the rest of their world in shadow. The only thing that existed were his arms, and her kisses on his stubbly chin. “You told me you had shaved,” Macy muttered, letting those be her first words to her husband. Her fingers rubbed at the irritable skin, making Harry blush with her tickled affection.

“Never got around to it,” he shrugged. “I got swept up with work again.”

“Well- “Macy three her arms around his neck, drawing him closer to her eager lips- “I think we could both use a break from anything work-related.”

“Well, whatever you have in mind, my dear-“

“Hm, I can think of something.”

Her kisses travel from his lips to his cheek, as he takes control of their stride. Picking up her abandoned luggage, the two walk away from the dwindling crowds, to a private corner near the communal bathrooms. Anywhere isolated enough to orb away. To get Macy home, and to their well-deserved break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make a request over [@katasstropheee](http://twitter.com/katasstropheee). I am always looking for cute moments to write.


	13. Duet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a poll recently on twitter to see where you wanted the next chapter to be set. This prompt DID NOT win the poll. I promise, the one that did is coming up soon.  
> I just had a punch of inspiration hit me last night and wrote a lot of this chapter down in my notebook. It took me most of the morning to translate my atrocious handwriting, but I have to say, I really like what I came up with. It's written in a kind-of experimental style, so if you could all provide me with feedback after you've completed it, I would very much appreciate that.

The old warehouse on the corner of Bridger and Lee used to be a shoe factory, until it was bought out in the early 1900s by a man who smelled like as much whiskey as his distillery could make in a month. It was then commissioned into a bar, unironically. Now, it was home to the Sing N’ Shake, Seattle’s latest and hottest destination for private karaoke.

It would cost an arm and a leg just to get through the door of a place so prestigious, and that’s exactly what Maggie was paying for. It wasn’t every day, especially within the last three years of their hectic lives, that the Vera-Vaughn’s got to celebrate a promotion.

Plus, Maggie loved to sing. She had no care in the world for where she was, or who would hear her when she belted out a tune. Not to say her family or co-workers minded at all. Her voice was so angelic, it put angels out of business.

Even Melanie, who was not one to perform in public outside of a rally or a ‘flash mob for a cause’, didn’t mind a good jam session every now and again. She always knew what songs suited her deeper tones.

Macy hadn’t really sung or enjoyed a night out of this splendour since college, but she was looking forward to letting her hair down for an evening, even I she hadn’t exactly agreed to sing anything. Maybe she could persuade Maggie to perform for the majority of the night with praise and drinks, so she wouldn’t notice her hesitation.

There was just one person left in the Vera-Vaughn household who needed convincing…

As a man of simple pleasures – tea by a warm fire, an old historical romance novel, fluffy slippers for his chilly feet – Harry thought a Friday night out on the town sounded like a waste of energy. It took all of Margarita Vera’s most cunning ploys and widest eyes to get him to even consider stepping out of the house passed his schedule rest time.

Eventually, comradery won him over. After all, he couldn’t very well let Jordan be the only chaperone for three, beautiful woman on the streets of Seattle so late into the evening. “Now what kind of man would that make me?”

“One from the twenty first century?”

He ignored Mel’s commentary, as he smoothed down the collar of his ironed shirt. Partnered with freshly pressed trousers and polished loafers, his attire was classy, yet casual. Although, he still didn’t understand why Maggie had renounced the tie he had chosen. It had added a flare of red to his outfit, matched with the shimmering leather of his shoes.

“This isn’t a tie event,” Maggie had exclaimed after his numerous acquisitions.

“Well what do you consider to be a _tie_ event?”

“Gala’s, weddings, funerals, parent/teacher conferences-“

He halted his inquiring soon after that, excepting defeat with stubborn reluctance. Besides, he didn’t wish to spoil the mood for the girls. They met him and his companion Jordan down by the front door, descending the stairs in their finest cocktail dresses.

Harry thought Macy seemed to shine with a vigour he was unaccustomed to. Her dress sat comfortably mid-thigh, her skirt flowing freely from the tight bodice. Without sleeves or strings to provide stability to the bralette, it left her shoulders bare. Thankfully, she had brought a jacket with her. It was only the beginning of Spring, so the weather was not yet warm enough for a brisk stroll through the city without heavy garments. He helped her put it on, his fingers brushing over her glossed skin without intention. She didn’t mind the lingering touch, or the way his stare kept running down her body in curious strokes.

Upon arriving at the bar and taking in the room that was paid in advance for by Maggie, forgoing the long cue of eager patrons at the entrance, the youngest sister had immediately reached for a microphone. There were only three devices in their room, so it would seem they’d be taking turns. They didn’t mind this arrangement, or the interior of the room as the first song was chosen, and the space was immediately plunged into darkness. Small twinkling lights cascading from the ceiling, and heavy beams of rainbows strobes filled the room like a small and intimate disco. It got them all amped up for their own turns at the mic. Even Macy, who still had a little hesitation at performing in front of others, seemed to relax a little more, taken in by the slow shift of the lights, and the quick consumption of drinks and edibles delivered to the room.

Maggie must have opted for the premium package, because they just kept coming, and coming. Macy couldn’t recall when they had stopped. She was nursing her second Mojito – her fifth drink overall – and swaying to the deep baritones of The Cure’s backup vocals. Mel had the song down pat, even after numerous shots of tequila. Her performance was only outdone by Maggie, held back by Jordan - who after one drink seemed to be the most stable body in the room - screaming praises at her sister from the seated benches at the far side of the wide expense.

Once it was over, Mel took a bow, nearly falling flat on her face as she tipped off-balance. She was saved by Harry, who had been standing on the edge of the makeshift stage unnoticed by the small party. He helped her stumble over to Maggie, who refused to let go once she had her hands wrapped around Mel’s neck. Jordan offered the man a nod of assurance. It seemed there wasn’t anything that man couldn’t do, even while slightly inebriated.

But Harry, who still stood in front of the group, sleeves shrugged up to his elbows, dinner jacket excused, and shoes lying somewhere out of Macy’s line of sight, flicked through the endless list of public-domain covers to find the one he wanted.

He clicked play, letting a brief silence fill the room. An orchestra began to swell over the speakers, earning a loud “whoop” from somewhere in Maggie’s direction.

Macy didn’t notice or pay it any mind if she had. Her eyes were glued to Harry, who was strutting his stuff in front of the large screen, back to the lyrics having no need to memorise them. He kept his eyes on Macy, eyes focused with laser precision, singing the words with a determination she hadn’t heard in his voice in some time. She blushed, taking a slow swig of her drink to stop her throat from closing.

It seemed, despite Harry’s soft nature, the man could hold a tune, and perform it well. He spun on the balls of his feet, his socks giving way to the friction of the floor as he danced. His voice hit every infliction perfectly, giving Sinatra the very performance the icon deserved.

Macy was speechless by the end of it, barely registering Harry’s closeness before he was kneeling at her feet, finishing his serenade with an outstretched hand caressing her cheek. She didn’t flinch at the touch. She merely blinked at his new proximity, abandoning her glass on the table, making sure she hadn’t knocked it over before running her own hand over his clammy fingers.

As the music died down, cheers and applause broke out around them. They turned to watch the three others in the room exclaim their praises, Maggie even snapping a few photos at their frozen state of sheer delight. Even Jordan seemed impressed, offering a slow clap of appreciation. In all honesty, both them had forgotten they weren’t the only two in the room. Still, the small audience didn’t break their concentration long enough to forget how close they were to each other. They turned back, eyes immediately finding purchase in the darkened room.

Harry stood, hand leaving Macy’s cheek but still stretched forward, beckoning for her grasp. “Trust me, love.” It took her far too long to realise he was asking her for a duet. Nevertheless, she took his hand.

The list of duets on offer seemed to outnumber the solo stuff, so picking the perfect song became a much harder choice than Harry had anticipated. His eyes worked over the list, his finger pressing the button too quickly for Macy to keep up with the screen. She placed a hand over his, halting his movement. It managed to stop on a song Macy recognised. She gazed over at Harry; hair swept up in a flurry, with a few stray strands plastered to his brow. He lifted one in question.

“It’s perfect,” Macy answered, much to Harry’s relief. He went to retrieve a second microphone but was paused on the way by Macy’s hand. Gripping his collar, she pulled him back into her embrace. They stumbled a little before finding equal footing, the song having started as they met in the middle.

They shared the mic, lips ghosting close enough to kiss with every new verse. The room around them evaporated past a physical space, till there was nothing left but a glowing spotlight, and just the two of them. Harry’s hands melded into her waist, which was swaying with the beat of the music. Macy’s fingers tried to tame his locks, causing him to growl through a particularly low note. It sent a jolt through her body.

Unbeknownst to them, Mel, Maggie, and Jordan watched on with unlocked jaws, liquor dripping from loose lips as Mel tried unsuccessfully to take another shot. She didn’t address the spreading stain on the front of her gold dress, too enthralled by the way Macy’s and Harry’s voices came together, like flames to a forest – growing higher and higher, and more out of control the longer they let the blaze burn. There was no need to put an end to their passion. They were in a zone of their own design, and by the time the song had ended, with the couple only a breath-width apart, the audience could only sit in silence as they gave in to their rising desire, and kissed.

Even as they moved from the dancefloor to a private corner in the back, Maggie managed to shake her head out of its mesmerisation and keep the other two’s attention on her. If there was anything she was an expert at, it was the art of distraction. She turned the party back up to eleven, putting on an Ariana Grande classic. Mel rolled her eyes but didn’t feel the need to poke at the inaccuracies of the song. At least not this time.

As she convinced Mel and Jordan, with eventual reluctance, to join in with her, Macy and Harry got their moment alone. Snuggled in the shadows, Macy sat in Harry’s lap, whispering sweet praises past his lips, which planted small, affectionate nips along her chin. By the end of the night, they would be too dizzy to recall leaving the venue, falling into the backseat of the Uber, or climbing the many flights of stairs up to their bedroom.

But they knew they would never forget the looks in each other’s eyes, or the sound of their voices, perfectly harmonious. Perhaps, this wasn’t a waste of time after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, feedback brings me joy! And so does being my friend over on [twitter](http://twitter.com/katasstropheee). Come and say g'day. :)


	14. The Bookstore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS is the prompt that won the poll, as promised.
> 
> It's shorter than I was expecting it to be, but I really liked how it turned out. I tried to use less adjectives, and to focus more on smaller details in the moment. I hope it shows.
> 
> Let me know what you think down below, please. The lack of feedback lately has been a wee-bit disheartening. I would just love to know if you read it, and your thoughts on it. And a favourite line, if you have one.

Macy first discovered The Book Nook on one of her solo ventures into the heart of Seattle. It had been a slow process accepting the city as their new headquarters, but eventually she and her sisters had taken in the sites, and engraved the streets and favoured hotspots into their memories. Macy preferred to take the smaller corridors and side avenues herself. Unlike her sisters, who were drawn more towards the tourist attractions and late-night club scenes.

That was how she’d discovered that small bookstore. The small chime of the bell at her first entrance introduced her to sky-high shelves of endless possibilities. If she didn’t have responsibilities weighing her down, she would spend hours there. Even just to run her fingers down each aisle, memorising the titles and authors, and the tiny creases in their flexed spines.

On this particular Friday in the middle of spring, the store has its air conditioning on for the first time since last summer. Its light breeze soothes the clammy patch of skin on Macy’s neck, between her high bun, and the low-cut back of her green jumpsuit. The straps of her suit are stretched thin as she reaches for something on a high shelf. And she is sure if someone was to walk past or turn down the aisle, they would have a clear view of her skin-tinged bra.

Rising up on her toes, with her other leg propelled up behind her in an attempt to make herself taller, her fingers have a strong brace against the thick edge of the book. She just needed another inch of grip to pull the _damn_ thing away from where it’s locked into place by its nearby volumes.

She is about to give up altogether and ask for assistance. But before she can back away, she is pushed into the hard edge of the bookshelf by another, heavy body. Holding her breath, a hand snakes its way around her waist, while another shifts up her forearm to entwine with her fingers. She feels the heat begin to rise from beneath her skin at the sudden intrusion, mixed in well with the jolt of excitement that hits her stomach.

With the additional strength of her companion, she is able to finally pull the book free. It drops into her hands, and she rolls her shoulders to release the tension caused by the restricted position.

It seems her helper had taken a step back, giving her air and enough space to turn around. A ‘thank you’ is on the edge of her lips, until she looks up into the familiar and blooming eyes of her betrothed. “Harry.”

“Macy,” he greeted back, tilting his head. “Why don’t you sound happy to see me?”

She wasn’t _not_ happy to see him. She was more surprised than anything. She had left the manor that morning having zero knowledge of Harry’s whereabouts – only knowing he hadn’t been in the bed when she woke up, or making breakfast like he usually did. This time she tilted her head, giving him a pinned stare beneath her flushed brow. “Where were you this morning?”

He sighed at the dismissal of his question. “I was working.”

“On a Saturday?”

“I am just as appalled as you are.” His ability to work humour into tense conversation was something she admired. But hardly when the moment called for tension. She tried to squish down the smile that threatened to spread to her cheeks, but his charm was turned up to eleven. Maybe to repel any other ill intent she would have at his absence. “Melanie called me last night,” he explained. “She noticed a strange symbol that showed up on the witchboard, and simply needed me to verify its importance.”

“And?” Macy asked after a brief pause.

“It was nothing,” he shrugged. “At least, nothing Maggie or yourself needed to rise for.”

“You still could’ve called.”

The small pout on Macy’s lips made Harry chuckle. His low laughter broke the stubborn spell Macy had put up, and before she could stop herself, she was showing off her pearliest whites. “I apologise for worrying you, my dear.” He lent forward and placed a kiss to her forehead. Her skin was warm and clammy. “My, it’s a warm day, isn’t it?”

Macy nodded furiously. “I wasn’t going to come out at all, but I remembered I needed to find this book for work. Can you believe it’s sold out online?”

“What a travesty.” He hummed cheerfully as Macy made a jab at his chest. He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, placing a kiss over her finger, and the silver-banded ring upon it. “How about I treat you to some ice-cream? There’s that place you like just north of here.”

“Mm, that does sound absolutely _amazing_ right now.” Despite the growing heat of their close proximity, she rose back onto her toes to kiss his lips. They felt soft, nipping at her own and tasting faintly of mint.

Once it was over, he held her back in a loose embrace. She leant into his side, guiding him to the front of the store. The soothing, circulated air would be missed, but as long as she had Harry by her side, and the sweet treat he had promised, she could brave the heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come say hi on [twitter](http://twitter.com/katasstropheee). i'd like more friends.


	15. Ice Skating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was suggested by [MelanijaParadis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelanijaParadis/pseuds/MelanijaParadis) some time ago. I've been fiddling with it on and off for a while and I'm finally happy with it.
> 
> Also, I want to dedicate this chapter to my favourite person, and #1 fan, Amanda a.k.a. [amandapanda425](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandapanda425/pseuds/amandapanda425). I hope this gives you the joy and motivation you need after a long day.

Harry always strived to impress Macy. In the meals that he cooked. In his appearance. In the subtle ways he showed her love and affection. Everything was done, down to the smallest detail, to make the love of his life happy.

So, when Macy had suggested a day out together, Harry’s mind buzzed with ideas of what they could do together. But she had immediately shut down his ramblings with three words. “it’s a surprise.”

Those three words lingered in his mind for the next two days. Waiting hurt just as much, if not more, than not knowing what the plan was. He had to swallow all his attempts to ply an answer out of Macy’s sweet and teasing lips, and trust her with whatever she came up with.

Of course, he trusted her. Every day they were out on the job, placing themselves in purposeful danger to protect the innocent, he trusted her with his safety, as she did him. So why was this any different?

Many points to his question popped up once Macy told him to open his eyes.

On the drive to the unknown location, Harry had worn an eye mask without argument, and had tried his best to not map out their drive along the way, ignoring every turn and pothole in the road. A classical station was tuned into the radio, and with Macy’s soft humming over the softened crescendos, he felt oddly calm. It dwelled the goosebumps on his skin, and the turn in his gut. At least, until the car was placed in park.

Then, with steady hands, he was led up a small ramp to what sounded like a set of automatic doors. Upon entering the building, he immediately started to shiver again. Only this time, his nerves were buried beneath the freezing temperature. He felt like he had just stepped through a portal and into the arctic.

Macy chuckled as Harry wound his arms around his waist. She was braced to his back, with her arms attempting to rub some warmth through his cotton sleeves, only halting in her process to help remove the mask from his eyes. At her next instruction, he peeled his lids open. “Well?”

Harry was speechless. Not in shock, but in confusion. “An ice rink?” he asked, his voice rising an octave at the end of his question.

Macy rested her chin on his shoulder. He could feel her hot breath brushing past his jaw, and salivated the notion. “Yeah. I thought it would be fun to try something new.”

“Well, it does sound exciting.” He hoped his words didn’t give away the fear rising up from the pit of his stomach.

She planted a kiss to his cheek, which he absently leant into. “I’ll go get the skates.”

She left his side quickly. He immediately wished for her to come back. Standing there by himself, gazing out at the large floor of ice, he hadn’t even taken a step onto it yet but he already felt the instability in his legs.

He also started to notice just how quiet the place was. The ceilings were high and covered in pipes and silver insulation, like an industrial building. Given that, he expected the echo of other people to reverb off the walls and reach his ears. But looking around, he couldn’t see another soul in sight. Not even an employee.

Macy returned, two pairs of skates hanging from her hands. She noticed his pouted expression. “Wondering where everyone is?” She could read his mind so clearly. He turned at her return and nodded furiously. “Well, I have a friend who knows the owner of this place. And given summer is technically over, no one’s really coming here on the weekends anymore. So, I just bought it out for the day.”

Harry noticed the twitch of Macy’s lips, clearly pleased at the deepening expression of astonishment on his face. “You _bought_ it out?”

“Well, for a favour,” she corrected him. “I now owe said friend a latte every day for a month, and to take on their laundry duties for the rest of the week.“ Harry came to the quick conclusion that said ‘friend’ was Maggie, which made sense when it came to the unusual, and often helpful connections she had made around Seattle. “But it’s all worth it,” she added, pinching his cheek affectionally. “Oh, you must be freezing.”

“Yes, I may be bit a cold,” he agreed, arms still tightly embracing his forearms, rubbing them roughly for heat.

“Well, luckily I came prepared.”

Macy had packed well for the day. She had tossed in their two matching Christmas sweaters from the previous year, which still fit them perfectly, with two pairs of black leather gloves, a beanie for Harry, and earmuffs for herself. In a small wicker basket, she had brought a wide selection of edibles – sandwiches, mini-quiches, fruit salad, accompanied by a tall thermos of hot cocoa, tucked into a sleeve at the side of the box. His mouth salivated at the idea of sneaking a grape into his mouth, but it was much too early to eat. Besides, maybe a turn or two on the ice would wet his appetite further.

He just had to get through his nerves first.

# # #

With their bags abandoned by the side of the arena, Macy braced Harry’s hands. With the skates now secured to his ankles, Harry no longer had a stable ground to stand on. His hands would grab at anything that would help him stay upright, up until Macy had taken the crook of his elbows into a fast and firm grasp.

“I’ve got you Harry,” she repeated over and over, letting her reassurance and confidence lead him slowly onto the ice. He hesitated, his eyes focused on the floor. Macy’s attention brought his stare back up to her face, where he became transfixed by her expression of pure warmth and encouragement. “That’s right, Harry. Just focus on me.”

He did. He hadn’t even noticed he had passed the threshold between the plastic laminate and the smooth crystal. His knees shook against the new slippery surface he was standing on, but somehow, holding Macy’s gaze helped him find his balance.

She had no intention of letting him go just yet. She would wait for Harry to get used to it, as long as that would take. Somewhere in the distance, Harry finally caught the soft swell of music playing over the speakers of the building. It wasn’t like any genre he would normally gravitate towards, but its distant echo helped him to focus on something other than his own thoughts.

“You’re doing great, Harry,” Macy encouraged further, shifting the grip from the crook of his elbow to his wrist. Harry pushed himself forward in fear, not wanting to lose her grip. She assured him she wasn’t going anywhere. “I’m with you Harry. We are in this together.”

“Of course,” he acknowledged through gritted teeth, “but in case I do fall-“

“Harry, you are doing great. Look, your legs aren’t even shaking anymore.”

Taking a quick glance down, she appeared to be right. He legs, while stuck in a slightly bended position, were no longer shaking. “Wow. Would you look at that?”

Macy soft chuckles brought his eyes back up. “See? You’ve got this.”

_Maybe, I do_. He was happy to hear some confidence covering the nagging voice in the back of his mind.

Time flew by as they picked up the pace. They were down to holding just one hand now, but Macy stayed glued to Harry’s side. She was attempting to instruct Harry on the best techniques for momentum, but he was hesitant in wanting to lift one foot of the ice.

Still, progress was being made. They had circled the arena twice already, taking it at their own pace. Harry was having more fun than he imagined he would. He had a hand firmly clasped to Macy’s, and the other gripping the sleeve of her jumper. He was surprised he wasn’t throwing Macy off balance in any way. She seemed to be holding her own, like a professional, given how easily she adapted to the ice. Harry asked if that was the case.

“No, I am not even close to being a pro,” she answered, blushing fondly at Harry’s compliment. “I did go skating a lot as a kid, and I had my fair share of falls. I even sprained an ankle once.”

Harry winced, then softened his expression when he took in the way Macy’s smile danced from one of humour, to recollection. “But you kept getting back up again,” he reflected.

“I sure did,” she beamed. “I was quite the stubborn child. Dad would agree to that.”

She didn’t often speak about her father, Dexter. At least not with as much tenderness as she was showing in that moment. She must be missing him. He could see her eyes slowly shining as tears came to light. He squeezed her hand. “I’m glad you chose this activity for our date.”

She turned her head and gave him a wide grin. “So am I. I mean, look at you.”

Harry’s feet wavered at the sudden turn of attention. “I, whoa-“ He gripped Macy tighter as his knee bent beneath him, almost taking them both down. Macy was quick to break, wrapping her arms around Harry’s waist to halt his descent. “I don’t think I’m there yet.”

They laughed nervously, relaxing into each other Harry found his balance again. “You might be right there,” she chuckled. “How about we take that break now?”

“Sounds perfect."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can make your own suggestions over on [twitter](http://twitter.com/katasstropheee/), if you wanna.
> 
> also, leave a comment. tell me what you thought of this chapter. it makes me super happy when you do.


	16. Late Valentine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to my charmed mutuals over on twitter. I don't think I would have the motivation to write, nor do anything really, if it wasn't for your constant encouragements and crazy drive! We are a small but mighty fanbase, and I am so lucky to have met each and every one of you. Thank you for my making my year bearable.

On the fifteenth of February, Harry shot up in his bed. Luckily, Macy was not present to see the sheer look of terror that creased his face.

In his rush to get downstairs, he tripped over his own feet. Managing to save his face by quickly grabbing onto the railing, it felt as if he had popped out his shoulder. His immortality meant he was not aging with the same ferocity as everyone else, but he still got the occasional joint pain if he did not warm up his limbs properly.

Maggie noticed his strain as he flew through into the kitchen. She had her coffee pressed to her lips, eyes staring at a starched-faced Harry.

“Maggie, I missed it.”

In his overwhelming panic, and with the light touch he had on her arm, Maggie began to fear the worst. She managed to place her mug down without spilling her coffee. “What is it? What did you forget?”

“Valentine’s day.”

Maggie’s mind fell blank for a moment, processing Harry’s statement. Then, she whacked his arm with her fist. He flinched dramatically as her punch hit directly where his shoulder was throbbing. “You doofus! You had me worried there for a second. I thought it was a magical emergency.”

“If you wish for me to still be your whitelighter tomorrow, then you will treat this as a magical emergency.”

Maggie laughed at Harry’s dramatic tone as she took a sip of her latte. “Seriously Harry, I don’t think you need to worry.”

“How can you be so sure?” he asked, loosening his collar.

Maggie could tell he was processing more thoughts than he could handle, just from the expression on his face. This time, she placed a hand on his arm, letting some of her calm aura flow through her fingers and onto his skin. The touch changed from cool to tempered as her she let her powers influence his nerves. “Listen to me, Harry.” She caught his attention as he turned, eyes dipped nervously against Maggie’s strong stare. “If Macy was upset with you, I think I would’ve felt it. But when she left for Safe Space this morning, she seemed fine.”

He crooked a brow cautiously. “Really?”

“Of course,” she confirmed. “If she hadn’t, I would be ripping you a new halo, now wouldn’t I?”

Harry in turn laughed at Maggie’s dark humour, feeling the ease she was giving him and letting it seep into his tired body. Perhaps racing out of bed at the speed of sound was not the best idea.

But when it came to Macy, he still was not entirely sure of himself. He just wanted to give her everything he could offer, but whether it was all enough was something he questioned daily.

Even with Maggie’s constant insistence that he was the best partner her sister had ever had, he still needed the reassurance. And Maggie would happily give it to him, straight and honest.

If only Harry could remind himself of that more often.

“Still,” he added quickly, accepting the cup of black coffee Maggie had made in his short silence. Time was alluding him the longer he stood there, wondering and replaying worst-case scenarios in his head. “I would like to make up for my terrible memory somehow.”

“Well, she’s got command centre duty this morning,” Maggie reminded him. Just as she was about to take another sip of her drink, she froze. A lightbulb went off in her head. “But I can take over if you wish to do something.”

Harry blanched too, surprised at the opportunity Maggie was affording him. “You’d do that?” he asked, knowing fully that Maggie hated Witch Watching, a phrase she had coined herself.

“Of course,” she chirped. “I can sacrifice my morning to ensure my sister’s happiness. Just don’t screw it up,” she demanded, pointing a finger at his tartan chest.

He nodded swiftly. “Of course. Thank you, Margarita. I owe you one.”

“Hell yeah, you do,” she agreed, blushing as he left a kiss on her cheek. “Okay, okay. Keep your kisses for your misses, pal.”

He chuckled, placing a hand on Maggie’s shoulder in appreciation as he raced again from the room, taking his coffee with him. A small slosh of the liquid fell from the porcelain mug and landed right where he was standing.

Maggie sighed affectionately, moving to clean it up. “It better be special,” she mumbled to herself, knowing Macy was in for a great day.

###

Macy’s hands braced the edge of the console. Her eyes darted over the numerous green lights that littered the screen. Groups of witches, many paired off in two’s, were safe and protected for another day.

Macy sighed. She had woken up an hour before her alarm, both from her own inability to sleep and from not wanting to be there when Harry eventually rose. She was not mad. She could admit that much.

But a soft spot in Macy’s heart was disappointed with how yesterday had gone down. Or rather, how it had not.

She had never been enthusiastic about Valentine’s Day in the past. Mostly because she did not believe one day out of the year should be as special as any other when it came to a relationship. Her previous partners were not thrilled about celebrating it either, so she had not paid much mind to it in those moments.

But Harry was different. He was a hopeless romantic at heart, and he did nothing to hide this fact. So, she assumed Valentine’s Day would be something he would contribute to.

It wasn’t as if nothing happened. He made her breakfast in bed, as he did every Sunday, and they had even managed to break away from their duties for an hour to sneak in secret kisses, like they were students beneath the bleachers during class.

But otherwise, Harry had remained silent about the occasion, and nothing new or particularly special had happened.

No, Macy was not mad. Yet, she couldn’t shake off the feeling that yesterday was a missed opportunity, and those feelings turned to doubt within herself. Perhaps _she_ should have done something instead; broken the stereotype and took charge, making him dinner, doting on him as he constantly doted on her.

She groaned, falling backwards into the seat she had slid closer to the desk. Her head fell back, eyes closed, letting out a long breath, like her lungs desperately needed the release.

The sound of shifting wind at her back made her perk up, but she kept her eyes firmly shut, feigning rest. The portal appeared and vanished in a flash. She caught the soft steps of her visitor approaching, and assumed Mel or Maggie had come to check on the board’s progress.

She hummed, waving a hand in their direction. “Nothing’s happened. The world is once again at peace. At least for now,” she joked darkly.

They didn’t answer her inquiry. Nothing needed to be said. But she started to wonder what her sisters wanted.

Then, two strong hands gripped her shoulders, holding her down as her lips were dragged into a kiss. It was long, and sensual, and given the odd positioning, Macy garnered appreciation for it, feeling the intruder’s tongue brush over the roof of her mouth.

She sighed, bringing a hand up to find her assailant’s face. Her fingers detected the light stubble on his cheek as he ended the kiss. “Harry,” she sighed.

“Macy.” His voice was deep. His mouth tasted like morning coffee and mint toothpaste. An unusual but amazing combination that Macy loved a bit too much.

Finally, she opened her eyes. Overcome with dizziness at the angle of her face, she sat up. Harry removed his hands as she did, immediately placing them back at the base of her neck as she moved to a more viable position. She planned to turn and face him, up until he started to massage the tender muscles in her shoulders. She melted instantly at his touch.

His lips kissed along her cheek, brushing the rim of her ear as he spoke. “I am so sorry, Macy.”

“What for?” she asked, concern coming in beneath the pure satisfaction of his endeavour.

“For forgetting.” He didn’t specify what he had forgotten, but she knew. Only the sorrow in his tone was surprising. “I should’ve done more for you yesterday.”

“Harry, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Harry.” She could feel the escalation of his anxiety as he spoke. She placed her hands on his, haltering his movements, forcing him back a step as she rose from her seat. Keeping their hands pressed firmly together, she pulled him backwards towards the console, crowding him against the table. Then she wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his shoulder.

It took him a moment to follow suit, brushing his hands up her spine till they rested securely against her shoulder blades. She was offering him comfort, of which he felt he didn’t deserve, and forgiveness for something so abysmal, when he had certainly done worse before.

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Macy said, muffled through the cotton of Harry’s shirt.

“So, you’re not upset?” Harry asked, still processing the guilt he’d been holding all morning.

Macy shifted, giving Harry her attention as she bit her lip. “I can’t lie and say that I’m not. However-“ she interjected quickly, watching the light fall from Harry’s face as she started to speak- “Harry, it’s just a holiday. It was created to boost consumer products, and to give young couples the wrong idea of what a healthy relationship should be.”

“And how do you view it?” he asked sceptically.

She sighed. “I just see it as another day of the week. My past relationships weren’t heavy on the romance. So, I guess…” she shrugged, looking for the right words. “I guess, I thought you would be more inclined to celebrate it.”

“I am,” Harry argued passionately. “I have been scolding myself since I remembered. Any excuse I come up with won’t be nearly good enough, but with everything that’s gone down lately, what with cleaning up the faction’s mess, I must’ve lost track of time.”

Macy hummed in agreeance. “Yeah, that’s true. I mean, we didn’t realise it was Christmas until five days before, right?”

“Exactly,” Harry chuckled. “We completely missed Thanksgiving too.”

“Well, that might’ve been on purpose.” Their laughter seemed to ease the tension, as the rumble in Harry’s chest bounced in Macy’s throat. It died down just as quickly, but Macy no longer felt the tension in Harry’s stance. “As I said, you have nothing to apologise for,” Macy concluded, brushing a knuckle over Harry’s cheek.

“I know,” Harry acknowledged. “But I would like to make it up to you, if you’ll let me.”

Before Macy could vocalise how unnecessary that was, Harry took control of the situation. He spun them so Macy was confined between the table and Harry’s strong embrace. He kissed her again, leaving niceties out of the way. His teeth bit harshly at her lip, exciting Macy to deepen her pursuit. One hand was braced to her back, strumming along the edge of her bra. The other was fiddling with something on the table.

She broke off the kiss, but stayed close enough to mingle her harsh breathing with Harry’s own. “Whatcha doing back there?” she asked.

“Something romantic,” was all he offered in reply.

It told Macy nothing. Nothing, except that any residual guilt Harry must’ve been feeling had reduced, or been blown away altogether. The man standing before her was stern, confident, and tantalising to a high degree. She had to fight the urge to kiss him again, and again, and to never stop. But her curiosity with whatever Harry was planning was raised enough to keep her head afloat.

The familiar sound of the portal-conjurer being pressed caught her off-guard. “Harry, I’m on duty. I can’t just leave.”

“It’s already taken care of,” Harry chimed in.

“What did you-“

“Maggie,” he muttered. “I now owe her a favour, and goodness knows what that’ll be.”

Macy smirked, impressed by Harry’s resolve. She would’ve voiced her dazzlement, but Harry’s only response was to smooch the smile right off her face, pocketing the small pearl he’d retrieved into the back pocket of her jeans. His hand lingered, applying a small smack and squeeze to her ass. She yelped in surprise, muffled by Harry’s tongue. “Now, I get you all to myself.”

His words. His touch. His breath against her cheek as he led his kisses down the curve of her throat.

Responsibilities forgotten, Macy held on tightly as Harry spun her around, walking her backwards through the portal. The change in surface made them stumble, falling backwards till they hit a wall.

The back of Macy’s head was protected from the impact by Harry’s hand. He ran his fingers down her long, dishevelled curls as he planted one last kiss to her lips. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

She blinked herself out of Harry’s mesmerising stare and took note of their surroundings. The room they had landed in was starch white, illuminated brightly against grey, timber floors and cream-themed furniture. Macy could estimate it was a hotel room, given its small interior and lack of productive décor, and there was a strange, floral scent that drew her eyes to a small table at its centre, adorned with candles, roses, gold-rimmed plates, and polished cutlery.

“Harry.” All she could do was repeat his name over and over as her gaze circled the room. There was an ensuite bathroom with its door cracked slightly open. Her eyes followed the crack down to the floor, where two small suitcases were sitting. She recognised them immediately. “Harry, when did you pack?”

“This morning,” his voice rose from behind her. “It was last minute, but I tried to pack as many essentials as I could for one evening, among other things.”

She turned as the suggestive tilt in his voice, flashing him a smile of pure surprise. “Harry, this is… this is too much.”

“Well, if you think this is too much-“

Before he could finish his sentence, a loud roar of a motorbike flew by. Both were perturbed by the sound and turned towards its source. There was an opened glass door on the other side of the room, leading out to a balcony big enough for two occupants. Its view was obscured by thin-veiled curtains that floated inward with the cool wind.

“Harry,” Macy muttered, approaching them slowly, “where are we?”

He did not answer. By the time she reached the door and brushed the veils out of her way, the view would provide everything Macy needed to know.

Voices of light conversation crept up from the streets down below. The fresh scent of baked goods wafted in with the breeze. And in the distance, the Eiffel Tower stood like a tall silhouette against the setting skyline. It was a picture-perfect image, and Macy’s hair flowing out past her shoulders only made it more perfect. Harry couldn’t believe how lucky he truly was.

As he gazed on at the love of his life, she gasped, taking enough steps back in shock to be standing in the room again. She only stopped when her knees caught the corner of the four-poster bed. She turned, catching the worry in Harry’s brow, before he erased it with an easy smile. “Well,” he asked nervously, “is it still too much?”

She shook her head steadily, failing to bring words up from her clenched throat. She wanted to show Harry how much she appreciated _this_ , and how all his efforts were never in vain, no matter what he told himself. She approached him slowly, hands finding purchase on his cheeks as she pulled him into another kiss.

She was ravished in so much love and affection, and she could feel it all. In the heat of their kiss. In the tears that fell from her eyes. In the way Harry swallowed as she drew back, only far enough to catch her breath.

She continued to hold him close, pressing their forehead together as she sniffled. “It’s perfect,” she said, attempting to not sound like sobering mess she felt like in that moment.

Harry seemed to be under the same spell, as he brought up a finger to dab at his own tears. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Macy,” he whispered again, earning a cacophony of laughter that sounded like sweet music.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Harry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> speaking of [twitter](http://twitter.com/katasstropheee). hint hint.
> 
> also leave a comment. HINT HINT.


	17. Date Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was requested by [MelanijaParadis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelanijaParadis/pseuds/MelanijaParadis) who asked for: "Macy cooks dinner for Harry, feeling a little self-conscious about her meal." I hope this small snippet suffices.

Harry had been on duty in the command centre for most of the day. Melanie had talked him into taking over her afternoon shift, which he obliged grudgingly. The room was quiet, and still, as was the witch board that did not light up red for the twelve or so hours he was seated there.

When the time came to pack up and leave for the evening, he was looking forward to getting out of there. Some self-care was much needed, even if that meant taking date night off the schedule.

But Macy had already texted him earlier that day, sprouting off some nonsense about a project she needed to finish. Whatever it was, Harry had no clue what said project could be. He had simply replied with “sounds fun” and a heart emoji, disheartened to end the day without time spent in her company.

He orbed himself straight to the attic, figuring it would be more convenient to put what he needed away first. He was too tired to use the stairs.

“Harry, is that you?”

Despite the light commotion he had caused, he was surprised to hear Macy’s shrill voice coming from beneath him. “Yeah, I just got back.” He didn’t intend to sound hurried, or irritated, and he hoped his rough reply didn’t come out that way.

But she replied in an overly cheery manner as she called back; “Could you come downstairs for me?”

He didn’t think he’d have the energy to even lift his legs down the first flight of stairs, but he couldn’t say no to her. He orbed down to the first floor, ignoring the obvious guilt that came from gaining assistance for such a mundane task.

He hadn’t time to dwell on it for long. His nose caught a whiff of something delicious wafting in from the kitchen. “Macy,” he called carefully.

“In here.” Her voice came from the kitchen, inviting him further in, and closer to the luscious scents that made his mouth start to water.

The room was dimmed at its edges, and brighter in the centre where a tower of tall candles burned. A white, velvet table cloth lay beneath polished silverware and flutes filled with a sparkling beverage. His eyes drew in the room, moving from the display on the dining table, to the kitchen bench. Platters of food littered its surface. It was like walking into the buffet of his dreams. He stepped closer, admiring the roasted potatoes and steamed broccoli, which fogged up the rim of his glasses as he leant over to admire the dishes.

Macy’s back was to him, stirring something in a small pan. She turned off the stove, turned to the entrance, and immediately beamed at the sight of Harry. “Hey. Thanks for coming down so quickly. You sounded tired.”

Harry flinched. “I’m sorry, love. I’ve just had a pretty uneventful day.” Macy poured the thick, brown sauce from the pan into a small, porcelain cup. The scent of it hit Harry harder than he expected. He licked his lips. “Was this the project you’ve been working on all day?”

“Kind of.” She picked up a large plate of beans, and another of fresh rolls. When Harry realised she was moving their dinner onto the table, he quickly moved to assist. Together, they managed to find room for every dish, leaving hardly any space for more.

Macy watched Harry’s eyes flicker from dish to dish. She felt awkward standing there, her apron standing out against her black, mid-length pencil skirt. She untied it and threw it over one of the unoccupied chairs. The soft glide of the fabric over the table startled Harry back to reality.

“Oh, please. Allow me.” He pulled a chair out for Macy, leaning in to kiss her cheek as she got comfortable. “I must say, I am speechless.”

She blushed. “I just thought it would be nice to cook dinner for _you_ for a change. You’ve been working a lot lately.”

It was Harry’s turn to glow red. He was seated at the head of the table, with Macy to his right, close enough to brush the tip of her toes along his calves. “It seems we have both been working a lot more lately.”

She hummed in agreement, picking up her glass. “Well, here’s to us, and finally taking that break.”

“To us.” He rose his drink as she did, letting it softly click with the brim of her chute. Harry didn’t realise just how parched he was, as the champagne sloshed down his throat.

He put it down and lifted up the large, thick napkin to his left. Folding it over his lap, he wondered where he should start. He wanted each dish to touch his palate, to savour every flavour, and the love Macy put into them.

From the corner of his eye, he could feel her watching him, waiting for him to make the first move. “Might I recommend you try the steak first?” she insisted. Her hands went to gather the plate of sirloin steaks, cooked to absolutely perfection, and still steaming with heat.

He took up his form to drag a piece onto his plate. He didn’t want to wait another second to try.

He took a small piece and placed it on his tongue. Chewing through its thick texture, he caught the edge of Macy’s leg bouncing against his knee. She was clearly nervous.

Harry didn’t consider himself a great cook. But the sisters had grown accustomed to his big breakfasts and extravagant dinners. It must’ve seemed like a big task to accomplishing in Macy’s eyes, perfecting something he did on an almost daily basis.

His eyes closed with the mix of savoury flavours. He nodded, mouth to occupied to answer.

“So, you like it?” Macy asked restlessly.

Harry swallowed quickly. “Yes, of course love. It’s incredible.”

Macy sighed with relief. “Thank you. I was slaving over that all afternoon. I know you like your steak medium rare, so I didn’t want to cook it too much, but I also didn’t want to burn it and-“

“Macy, love. It’s okay.” Her escalation stopped, as he pressed a palm to her cheek. “You have outdone yourself,” he commended. “Frankly, you might have outdone me.”

“What?” she exclaimed. “No. No way. You have set a high bar in the Vera-Vaughn household.”

He chuckled. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“You don’t have to. Your cooking speaks for yourself.”

“As does yours.”

Macy squished up her nose, blushing against his constant adorations. “Well, we could sit here and attempt to out-compliment each other all evening. Or-“ she produced another dish from the far side of the table, spooning some steamy spuds onto his plate, “we can eat this delicious food, and make sure none of it goes to waste.”

Harry hummed in agreement. “I am famished. And those puddings look divine.”

Macy mentally patted her own back on a job well done, marvelling at how attentive Harry was to each meal. Perhaps she could do this again, sometime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make a request over @ [twitter.](http://twitter.com/katasstropheee)


	18. Movie Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a prompt requested by Amanda/[amandapanda425](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandapanda425/). I hope you like it.
> 
> And to anyone reading, any feedback you have, long or short, is appreciated. Comments are what fuel me to write, and motivate me to get chapter out faster.
> 
> Also, we are two away from twenty chapters, and something i'm planning that's a little more special...

The Vera-Vaughn household’s weekly movie night was ruined for the evening by a sudden downpour.

Normally, that wouldn’t deter Harry or the sisters from building a pillow and blanket fort in the solarium, or making fresh popcorn melted in butter and sugar to fend off the cold.

But tonight, Macy had stayed late at Safe Space, and was now caught in the eye of the potential hurricane, without protection from the elements or a ride home.

She sighed, pulling her phone out of the deepest pocket of her overcoat as it vibrated, squinting at the name that popped up on its bright screen. It was Harry. “Thank god it’s you,” she answered, skipping pleasantries. “Can you come and get me?”

“Are you still at work?” he asked, his voice yelling over her sisters, who she could just make out in the background.

“Sadly. I thought I could finish all my paperwork before the storm hit, but _alas_.” She stuck a hand out the door, feeling the pelt of rushing water running off the gutters and onto the ground. “Why does it sound like you’re standing in a nightclub?” Macy added, commenting on the growing ruckus in her ear.

“Ha-Hang on, love.” She heard some static pick up in the call as Harry moved. Eventually, the noise died down, and his brisk, British accent could be heard perfectly. “Sorry about that. Your sisters _were_ arguing about which movie to watch tonight, just before the lights went out.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Not at all. It looks like the whole block is out.”

She groaned. “Great. Okay. Just orb me home and we’ll… try something else.” She took a step back in to the empty space, walking towards the café where the main power switch was located. Unfortunately, the storm seemed to have the same idea here as it did at home, quickly plunging the centre into darkness. The low buzz of the air conditioning fell silent, dropping any sense of warmth or safety in its wake.

Macy shivered. “Damn?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, the power just went out here too.”

She caught Harry’s tutting through the phone. “Well, the girls are off doing their own thing now. Looks like movie night is cancelled.”

“Hell no.”

Harry’s reaction to her response was missed as Macy looked around the room. In one of the corners, old machinery was set up, including a projector that, to Macy’s glee, didn’t need direct electricity to run. A plan slowly formed in her head. “Harry, orb yourself over here. I have an idea.”

“Uh, sure,” he replied uneasily. “What about your sisters?”

“I think they’ll be fine doing their own thing tonight. Besides-“ she smiled in the low moonlight, thunder flashing over a white wall, right in the perfect position for a projection screen, “it would be nice if it was just us tonight.”

He hummed over the speaker, voice picking up with the sudden change in mood. “Sounds like a lovely idea. Would you like me to bring anything from home?”

After hanging up, Harry orbed himself to Safe Space, holding the requested items - a bottle of chilled wine, extra blankets, and a pair of matching pyjamas, gifted by Maggie from last Christmas. He had been lively enough to pack a parker too, even if he’d been distracted momentarily by Macy’s sudden scheme.

The room was quiet, only echoing the rushing wind and pounding rain. He blinked against the darkness. “Macy?”

“Over here.”

He took a few steps forward to peek around a pillar. There, he saw Macy, setting up her laptop against a bright backdrop of its screen, projected against the opposite wall. It soon glowed red, mirroring the accents of the Netflix logo as Macy searched for a movie to watch.

“My, my,” Harry beamed, coming up behind her and throwing an arm over her waist. “You have certainly outdone yourself this time.”

She sighed, melting into his touch as soon as he was close enough. “It’s nothing.” She blushed as he kissed her cheek, holding it there for a moment. It felt warm and soothing over the growing chill of the high-ceilinged facility. “Plus, there’s not much else we can do in this storm.”

“Oh, I can think of many things we can do.”

She hummed, his voice vibrating over the wide stretch of her throat he was suddenly infatuated with. “Hm, well maybe we can save that kind of activity for later?”

He chuckled, finally releasing her. He placed the bottle and blanket on a pile of cushions. Macy had been busy setting up a little area for their rendezvous – with the collection of bean bags pushed together, supported by pillows and surrounded in golden torches, giving the room a minimal glow. “It seems like we’re ready for the perfect night in.”

“Almost.” He looked up at Macy’s hesitation. “Well, I was going to get us some chips from the vending machine, but-“ She pointed up at the lights, indicating to the lack of electricity.

“Right,” Harry stated, dusting off his jeans as he stood. “I may have a solution for that.”

Before she could ask, he took off, climbing the stairs at a steady pace and disappearing from the edge of the balcony above. She paused in her pursuit of a film, listening at the distant sounds that came with Harry’s flight. “Found it,” she heard him say, muffled by distance.

He returned to the first floor just as quickly as he had left, and bundled in his arms were a small pile of assorted candies and chocolates. “ _Huh_. Where did you find those?“

“Jordan,” he shrugged. “He told me about his secret stash a few weeks ago. You recall when we were both _plastered_ that one time?” he added, referring to Maggie’s terminology for that entertaining evening.

“Ah,” Macy remembered. “I do. In fact, before that moment, I had never seen a man sing the entire discography of Sinatra in his underwear before.”

He paused from his sorting, pointing a finger in Macy’s direction. “We do not speak of that, remember?” Once he knew his words had been heard, hiding his blush against Macy’s growing grin, he turned back to the food. “Well, Jordan must’ve been too out of it to remember telling me about all the treats he’d been accumulating.”

“And what will you do when he finds out his stock is missing?”

“I left a note,” Harry muttered.

Macy chuckled. “Well, okay then. I guess that’s everything sorted.”

“Right,” Harry agreed, wiping off his hands as he pointed out each item, one by one. “A comfortable place to sit, entertainment, food, refreshments, and-“ he turned lastly towards Macy, hands spread out at his side, “lastly, the most beautiful date I could have ever asked for.”

She blushed, falling into his arms as he kissed the corner of her lips. “Hm, I feel the same way, Harry.”

After dressing in their matching sets, with Macy taking the time to tease Harry’s choice of briefs – “I thought you were a fan of Heaven’s Vice,” he argued jokingly, shaking his halo-and-wing covered tush – they planted themselves among the soft debris, sitting back as the opening credits begun.

The movie they chose was eventually deemed unimportant, especially when the storm outside was too loud for the dialogue to speak through. Instead, they used the soft sound of the score and its black and white frame to light up the gaze of each other’s eyes, distracted by the tentative motions of Harry’s lips and hands. It flooded them with warmth; the perfect contrast to the brewing cold that came in with the storm.

Sleep was inevitable, as were the blankets tucked up to their chins, and the overwhelming comfort and protection of having Harry at her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request a chapter on [twitter](http://twitter.com/katasstropheee). I am taking ideas for chapter nineteen rn.


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